


Bringing Us Back to the Beginning

by AvaCelt



Category: Korean Drama, 무사 백동수 | Warrior Baek Dong Soo
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Headcanon, Love Confessions, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 02:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt/pseuds/AvaCelt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A twist at the gambling house during the fight between Dong Soo and the Ambassador causes the frame to shift drastically. Suddenly, three young people are thrown into a pit they can’t seem to crawl out of. When the question of survival boils down to loyalty, who will choose what? Who will choose whom?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Yeo Woon**

A thumb tentatively brushes against the younger man’s pale cheek. To the average human being, no response to the gesture could be seen from the patient. He lies limply underneath piles of warm quilts up to his chest and is surrounded by dim light emitted by the various candles and lanterns adorning the shelf that encircle the room. Dying, or perhaps dead, is the man- somewhere along the lines of acute morbidity, to the average human being.

But Yeo Un is anything but average, and certainly not human. His heart eases when the dark skinned man’s lip twitches the slightest bit before falling still once more. Tearing his eyes away from his unconscious form, he produces a needle far sharper than hi acupuncture et. Already wheedled with the strong thread, he began to meticulously stitch the torn flesh of the exposed shoulder. The body continues to lie still as he works the flesh riddled with bruises and one deep, long cut. The Sky Lord knows that the stitches will only help so much, as the real damage lies deep within. The bone in his shoulder had been be scratched he surmises, after the Japanese ambassador finished his attack. Not torn, never broken, but violated nonetheless.

He can’t help but purse his lips into a thin line. Once finished with th stitching he lightly cleans the wound of any excess blood and debris and presses a patch of medicated cloth afterwards. From there, he carefully lifts the man- embraces him, protectively encloses him in a firm grip and smells the musky and bloodied scent of his collar- and finishes bandaging the intruded site before gently putting him down again and pulling the covers over his shoulder. He then pulls th needle from the body.

And the second he does, a weak cry escapes the his lips. He can see the sweat begin to break out on his forehead as the pain of the stitches and the medicine begin to intermingle. The burning sensation, he knows, is now coursing through the young man’s weakened body, and sooner or later , his eyes will shoot open and he’ll howl as the paste seeps in through the cracks and begins healing the injury beneath.

But it never comes to that. The effects by the drugs originally administered by the nobles fa surpass hat of the herbs and treatment Yeo Un administered. He sighs gratefully and watches as the man departs back into his dreams, and away from the Sky Lord.

Alabaster fingers brush away stray strands of wavy brown hair that fall haphazardly over the sickly skin. He can’t help but lightly caress the tufts of dark brown. A simple twitch of his own lips tell him he’s just inwardly smiled- smiled at the thought of knowing that even after all these years, Baek Dong Soo’s unruly mane of wispy curls and waves are of more interest and beauty than half the other atrocities that come and go in his life.

But it isn’t anything new. Everything about the man has always resulted in something of utmost importance in comparison to everything else in his life- except that one time. That one time resulted in a broken friendship, a period of helpless insanity for the unconscious man, a attle that gave him a scar he could never hide, and then the eventual parting that resulted in him losing the young man for three long years.

And then he returned, and they spoke. Fought. Despised each other... and then he left again.

And now, a short six months later, it's all the same once more. His continual stalking of the inhabitants of Sa Mo and Jin Ju's hovels, making sure Hae Dong Ju stayed away from those inhabitants, and hoping Baek Dong Soo stayed far, far away from all the hell that would soon break loose.

But no everyone an have everything, he decides. Because Baek Dong Soo returns. He returns with a painter and an official who used to be as close to him as a brother would be. And not a week into his return, he manages to catch the attention of the only two monsters he hasn't had the pleasure in destroying yet. So of course, he inwardly sighs, this was bound to happen

“The commoner wishes to enter, My Lord.”

He blinks- a silent acknowledgement that he's delved into his reverie for far too long, and had the speaker wished to kill him, she would have perfectly been able to. “No one is to come inside without my permission.

“She' persistent,” comes the reply.

“As am I,” he finishes. Rising from his seat next Dong Soo, he follows Gu Hyang out the door.

Before anyone can say anything, he firmly clasps the door shut behind him with two coins and a needle.

*******

Smack!

Gu Hyang draws her shuriken, but the man simply wipes away the droplet of blood that's collected as the side of his mouth, causing her shy her weapons back into their place beneath her sleeves.

“Let me see him.” Her voice is as deadly as it is calm. “I need to take hi home.”

He cannot help but smile automatically. This one, he knows. This one and he have more in common than anyone can hope to see.

“When his wound heals. For now, I offer you a place to rest.”

Her steely brown eyes bear into his own, and for minutes, they both remain silent. She understands, he thinks.

“I've lost both my parents,” she begins. “I can't lose him too. So, by God, if he doesn't make it out alive, I will kill you myself.”

“I will die by your hands then.” It's a promise he makes.

“Don't take him away from me.” She whispers and drops her head, and yet he can see the tears drop softly to the floor beneath their feet.

“He was never mine to begin with.”

“And he never will be!” Her reddened eyes move up to his and flash a warning sign, but she's weakened to her bone. She cannot fight, he knows. She can hit him again, scratch his face, kick him and stab him- but she cannot fight him.

“He's asleep, and night has fallen. Gu Hyang will escort you to the room next to his.”

She remains silent, as if tallying her options “I need to return home,” she replies hesitantly. “They need to know he's safe.”

“And you can do the same come morning when he is able and you are well-rested.” He replies.

She crinkles her nose. “Why are you helping us?” It's abrupt, but it was bound to be asked.

“Because you and I are the same.” He replies without skipping a beat. She seems taken aback, and she should be. “Baek Dong Soo will always be my friend,” he continues. She wants to say something, but he cuts her off before she can begin. “Gu Hyang will take you to your quarters.”

She bites her lip and hastily wipes her eyes. She grimly eyes the medic.

“Take her,” he says, and Gu Hyang bows deeply before coming up to lead.

“Friends don't betray other friends,” the commoner says absently, following Gu Hyang. They disappear from his site moments later.

They don't He agrees. hey love them, cherish them, Take care of them Things he could never achieve Thank you, Jin Ju, he thinks. Thank you for doing the things I never could.

*******


	2. Chapter 2

**Jin Ju**  
  
Jin Ju wakes to bright rays of light filtering through the screen by the windows. At first, she thinks of calling out to her father so she can tell him to throw a shawl over the screen so the sunlight can’t bother her, but then she realizes that home is the last place she can hope to be and her father isn't here to beckon to her cries. She scrunches her eyes, and wishes silently that she’s wrong.  
  
But she doesn't assume any further than that because the next second, Dong Soo appears behind her eyes. Dong Soo, with his sun-kissed skin, and his his deep, brown eyes. Dong Soo, with his vibrant smile and his kindly words.  
  
And his bloodied robe- the torn flesh of his shoulder. His face, riddled with pain, conviction, and lethargy induced by the drugs- the lone tear that fell silently from his eyes when he saw her brandish her sword and leap for the ambassador when he dug the sword tip deeper into his skin.  
  
She shoots upright from the futon, her eyes aghast and breathing frantic. Panic sets in when she realizes that she’s willingly spent a night in the lion’s den.  
  
With Dong Soo in no condition to deny its offers.  
  
The thought of him being alone and without someone to at least guide him out of his stupor strikes fear into her heart. She hastily throws the covers off and climbs out. Minutes later, she finds herself outside and staring at the two rooms that flank the one she's slept in. Both are fastened, signaling that whoever was inside was not in the mood to be bothered. She scratches her head and thinks knocking might help.  
  
But if Dong Soo's still asleep, she has no interest in tearing him away from his slumber.  
  
She goes with option two and decides that breaking the locks will have to do. They're no match for the pins and needles she trustingly carries in her hair, and vehemently prays she isn't jumped as she eyes the door to the right first.  
  
And before she can even unfasten the pin from her hair, a lilting, familiar voice carries through the door to her. The door mysteriously clicks open, and two gold coins and needle clatter to the floor beneath her.  
  
“You can come inside.” it says.  
  
Jin Ju is more than happy to comply. Once inside, she stops in her tracks at the scene before her.  
  
The current Sky Lord, the man who single handedly slaughtered half the gambling house’s staff the previous night, sits solemnly with a bowl of water and a wad of moist cloth. His hands are occupied with the cloth, which he dips, squeezes, and folds before placing it atop Dong Soo’s head His movements are sickeningly gentle, and she can’t help but scrunch her face in disgust as he gently ghosts his fingers over strands of his brown locks before shooing them away and removing the cloth to repeat the cycle.Memories show her Ji Sun sitting in Yeo Woon's place. Ji Sun, who despite being an outsider, still managed to gain access into her muddled family and a place by Dong Soo’s sickbed.  
  
And his heart.  
  
Jin Ju isn't the type to intrude upon others and their lives, but Ji Sun, who she'd vowed to protect, should have known, being a woman, that she'd been there first.  
  
She feels an indescribable pain, and suddenly, she can’t be there anymore because tears prick the edges of her eyes, and it's not the Sky Lord she sees anymore. She turns to leave the room-  
  
But the soft voice lulls her back to them.  
  
“His fever is close to breaking. Perhaps tomorrow morning you can take him. For now, he needs rest and time to properly gain his strength.”  
  
She hesitates at first. I can't be here. But she has to, she knows, because he's here, and she knows she's not stepping foot outside the pagoda known as Heuksa Chorong's lair without him by her side. Quickly brushing any stray liquid from her eyes, she turns around and stalks over to the bed. As soon as she sits down, she snatches the cloth from Yeo Un’s hand and begins drenching it in the ceramic bowl herself. She expects him to chastise her, call her out on her clumsiness as drops of moisture fall to the coverlet instead of the bowl. She expects him to tell her to do better.  
  
But instead, he’s forgotten that she exists. When she’s put the cloth over Dong Soo’s forehead and moved her own share of brown wisps away, she sees that the Sky Lord has gone into one of his reveries. It's one of those reveries that she's had the courtesy of witnessing more often than not when they were children He’s focused entirely on him, and a feeling begins to creep into her throat. She feels as if though she’s seen this happen before- seen someone staring at another with a look that was a cross between confusion and understanding. Not the bleak, heartbreaking look Ji Sun wore. No, she thinks. She knows someone who wear this articular look If I think about it long enough, she muses maybe I can figure it out.  
  
Soon, she’s had enough. It doesn't bother her that Dong Soo’s the center of his attention He’s always the center of someone’s attention, she thinks, smiling lightly. Whether it be a noble girl-turned-samini, a sword saint with one too many promises, or just a common thief who also happened to be the bastard of an acclaimed Earth Lord- the possibilities were endless. Even the most elusive of enigmas fell helpless to the last of the Baek clan. Like a god, those who witnessed him either fell to their knees or fell to their death. As still as the rocks adorning the mountains, as impulsive as the birds circling the sky. As calm as the breeze at dawn, as beautiful as the water lilies adorning the evening lake.  
  
So no, she doesn't begrudge her former friend for basking silently in Dong Soo's glory. No, she doesn't begrudge him for ignoring her.  
  
She begrudges him for not answering her question properly the night before.  
  
“Why'd you do it?” She asks abruptly. He blinks, and turns his eyes to her.  
  
“Did I not explain myself properly?” He asks blankly. To the average person, it would have been a rude comment. To Jin Ju, this was simply Yeo Un being genuinely confused. The slight shift of his lips confirms her suspicions.  
  
She waves one hand dismissively, the other gently holding one of Dong Soo's hands. “That's not what I meant.” He blinks unresponsively. “About the friendship thing,” she grits through her teeth. “What I meant is why did you interfere? I had my sword out. Sa Mo and Father were there.”  
  
“Hong Dae Jo purpose-”  
  
“Purposefully drugged him, I know,” she snaps, cutting him off. “But it doesn't make sense why you swooped in. Cho Rip and the others were already on their way.”  
  
“The Ambassador would have killed you,” he replies plainly.  
  
“I've seen and met worse.The old man who saved my life, for one. ut I would have been fine. Stabbed a few times, but fine.&rdquo He doesn't answer. She thinks that maybe she's putting herself too high up there, but dismisses the thought “You stood up when he was stabbed. I saw you.”  
  
He doesn't deny it.  
  
“And you could have come down then,” she continues. “But then you sat back down, and the ajusshi in the crowd yelled that the hourglass was broken.That was you, wasn't it?”  
  
No response.  
  
“Why didn't you come down then?” She whispers at last. “It was over by then. The match was annulled, Sa Mo was getting into the ri-”  
  
“-Sa Hae signaled the riot.”  
  
Her eyes widen. “What?”  
  
“Sa Hae,” he reiterates. “The nobleman's son. He was the one who called for the ajusshi in the crowd to begin throwing rocks at Dong Soo and the Ambassador.”  
  
“But why?” She doesn't understand. “Why would he jeopardize his father's reputation? That gambling house sees everyone from officials to beggars- why would he do that?”  
  
“Impulse,” he answers simply.  
  
She nods her head sickeningly, but her eyes turn to him again. “In any case, it shouldn't have mattered. Sa Mo and Father would have been able to drag him out. I had my sword out. The Ambassador would have paid attention to me and him. The crowd would have cheered for our blood.” She doesn't notice, but the hand that was once clasping Dong Soo's hand was now squeezing it. “Why did you come down?”  
  
“You would have died.”  
  
“Liar!” And the bowl of water sitting between then shifts a little, and Dong Soo's lips quiver, unknown to both Yeo Woon turns his head to the side and drops his eyes “You could have left. We would have bee fine.&rdquo She can sense his jaw set in even though there's nothing that's changed in hindsight. He's restraining himself.  
  
But she's nothing if not persistent.  
  
“You killed spectators as well. When you jumped down, you cut down the announcer and the two guards that flanked the sides. And the uniformed men, you cut them down too. Then the employees of the house came inside the ring, and you took them down with the help of the Ambassador. Then you furrowed two cuts into him- one on each shoulder- before you threw him to the rest of the rioters and grabbed us both.”  
  
The harshness in his jaw seems to have been lifted “You have a sharp memory,” he says absently.  
  
“And you grabbed me,” she continues, missing his comment. “The Ambassador would have forgotten me by then. The rioters would have been the most important thing. I could have fought. Sa Mo and Father were already fighting. You could have whisked Dong Soo away and out of our sight before any of us even thought to look down again.” She doesn't feel a slight twitch in the hand she's holding.  
  
Finally, he moves his face to meet hers again. “I could have.” He answers simply.  
  
“You could have.” She says. “But you didn't. Why?”  
  
“His efforts would have gone to waste.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” She sneers.  
  
“The fires,” he answers simply. “He saved you twice. Perhaps more than twice. He would have died living if he ever knew that I left you behind, favoring his life over yours.”  
  
And then there's silence, because Jin Ju knew it from the beginning. It doesn't make sense for the Sky Lord to make room in his business for people like her- bastards living as rogue fighters. But Dong Soo. Dong Soo could make the heart of an iron king melt. One smile, and the kingdom would be on its knees.  
  
So the Prince of Shadows being susceptible to his charms doesn't faze her, and she soon realizes that she's tired. So, very tired.  
  
She doesn't bother replying to his confessions, because anything and everything she says will be held against her indirectly for the rest of her life, and the Sky Lord will look upon her as nothing but the weakling bastard thief she really is. And even though he's evil, cruel, the bane of mankind's existence in her eyes, he still cares for Baek Dong Soo. She knows this. She's always known this. Considering his position in the hierarchy of life itself, his rights to the side of Dong Soo's sickbed surpass her own far more than she can ever imagine. Like the samini, Un- Sky Lord, Prince of Shadows, Pretty Boy- are unattainable figures of essence she can never hope to touch, ever hope to beat, never hope to be.  
  
So she goes on squeezing Dong Soo's hand as Yeo Un resumes wetting the cloth and placing it on Dong Soo's forehead. They sit in silence for an recognized period of time, repeating the ministrations over and over again until the scalding hot water of the ceramic bowl turns cold and Jin Ju finds her chin on Dong Soo's chest, her knees on the floor and aching.  
  
And Yeo Un, she notices, has drifted off to sleep sitting on the site of the bed, thoroughly placing his life in her hands. His eyelashes touch the skin under his eyes, and they look like the firm thread Ji Sun always buys in the third week of every month. His hands, one over the other, lie over one of Dong Soo's hands. His head is down, but not fully, so she assumes that perhaps he's subconsciously alert enough to kill anything and everything that dares to step into this room without knocking.  
  
And so she lets chin fall and her ear slip to where Dong Soo's heart should be. She begins to feel the steady rhythm of the beat lull her to sleep, and everything seems just a bit more peaceful than it did the day before. Her eyes slip shut.  
  
 *******  
  
Deep, brown silently flutter open to the ceiling adorned in jewels and unlit lanterns, but the artificial beauty doesn't make his heart skip. The feelings of a head over his heart and hands over his own do.  
  
 *******


	3. Chapter 3

 

**Dong Soo**

The design on the lanterns reminds him of fireflies. He thinks maybe he should make time in the next few days to capture a few and give them to the samini, and then- perhaps -release them back into the night sky with her.

The thought brings a fleeting smile to his face, but then it dawns upon him that the room he sleeps in at the hove doesn't ave jeweled lanterns and scented candles placed upon a long, circular shelf that encircles the room in its embrace. He has a simple, iron lamp and a few homemade candles. His window is usually covered with woven straw sheets that disallow the light from entering properly. The rays here are brighter, more pure. He assumes that perhaps ricepaper screens stand in front of the openings.

And the head feels warm on his chest, and he likes this feeling. This feeling of being loved, cared for, waited on by someone. The hands surrounding his own are warm- protective. He doesn't want to move his head to see who these people are- who this person is, because it just feels so pleasant.

Her small, round face appears in front of him, replacing the lanterns embellishing the shelf. He feels the pit of his stomach weaken, and his lips quirk again. The thought of her smiling softly down on him, her small, pale hands encasing his rough, tanned ones brings a softness to his heart. The idea of her head lying over his heart makes his chest begin to ache.

And then he becomes conscious of the fact that the samini would never behave so freely around him. The head on his ches couldn't e hers, and the soft hands that seemingly both cover and caress his own are calloused. The samini’s fingers are smooth and long. Her nails about half a centimeter long on each finger, and blunt. He allows his own finger to slightly rise and brush against one of the fingers of the person holding them. The nails are no where near as properly manicured, and they’re jagged in a few places, as if hastily cut and sanded.

That’s when his half-lidded eyes fully shoot open, and the memories of the night before rush back to him. The unexpected wave of emotions and information cause him to jerk up and pull his hands away. When the pain hits, a sound, crossing between a growl and a howl, escapes his lips. Seconds later, he finds hands firmly pushing him down.The burning sensation spreads to his clavicle. He clasps his eyes shut and his appendages frantically grasp the sheets while the jolts wrack throughout his body.

And then everything becomes still. He can feel two pairs of hands untie his robe and begin touching, removing, snipping, and redressing. Faintly in the midst, one hand ghosts over his cheek, wiping away a tear h didn't now he’d let fall.

There’s a cooling sensation in his shoulder now, and the pain in his clavicle subsides. He feels a hand move to his neck, and he lets out a breath h didn't now he was holding when the hand moves away. His eyes flutter open to two pairs of brown orbs, staring back intently.

The first pair, belonging to Jin Ju, causes him to sigh in relief for a split second.

The second almost knocks him back.

“Aigoo, look what you’ve done now.” It’s Jin Ju, her head shaking disapprovingly. “Stop scaring him with your death stare, Un,” she chastises. Dong Soo feels insulted, but before he can answer, the other man starts to get up.

But Dong Soo’s hand is already latched on to his wrist. “I-“ he begins, more than flustered. “You-“

“Still at a loss for words, even after all these years,” the paler man deadpans. Dong Soo gapes at the response. Jin Ju, as appalled as he is, smacks the assassin lord on the shoulder and gives him a dirty look.

But it isn't the type of smack that's supposed to hurt, he notes. It's the kind he'd bestowed upon Cho Rip and the others when they were still children- hard enough to grab attention, but not hard enough to hurt. Un glances back at her to acknowledge the physical warning before sitting down by his side again.

He wonders how long he's been out.

“Jin Ju-ah.” He begins, voice cracking. His voice is parched and scratchy, like it's been days since his last glass of water.

Maybe it has, he thinks. Jin Ju saunters off to grab the pitcher and a small bowl while he feels Un begin to help him up. Once he's propped up against the pillows, he watches as two of his closest friends, and silent enemies, pour him a bowl of water.

Jin Ju pours the clear liquid while Un holds the bowl securely in his hands. Both, Dong Soo notes, have dark circles underneath their eyes. Jin Ju shifts her knees, as if they're in a state of discomfort. Un's fingers, presently grasped around the bowl, are chapped and rough-looking, as if he hadn't properly dried his hands after washing them. Both sport cracked lips that tell Dong Soo that they've skipped breakfast, maybe lunch too, and perhaps every other meal between the time he was asleep and now. He comes to the conclusion both have suffered terrible nights.

Most likely because of you. It's always because of you, isn't it?

Now he feels bad for waking them up. It should have been enough when he decided to ruin their night's sleep, but their daytime naps as well? Dong Soo inwardly sulks as he drinks the water and moistens his dry throat. Un's holding the bowl, and Jin Ju's keeping a firm hand near his wounded shoulder and shooing away strands of hair away from his ear.

He cracks a smile after they’ve moved the bowl away from his lips. He watches Jin Ju pat his robe, smoothing out the creases. Only once does it brush over his wound, and that’s only to fluff the cloth so it doesn’t impose on the bandages. Un-ah, on the other hand, has found something interesting in the bowl he drank from and doesn’t remove his gaze from it.

The awkward silence persists until there’s a knock at the door. He observes as the thinner of them turns around as it clicks open. It’s a woman, a few years their senior, carrying a tray full of food. Behind her are two men carrying wine jugs, clay tumblers, and sweets.

“It’s about time.” Jin Ju’s off the bed in a flash and goes to help set the portable table. Dong Soo can't help but smile again, though a piece of him inside steadily begins to crumble as he continues to realize just how much he’s put these two through.

“I apologize.”

Dong Soo blinks. It’s the second time the man’s spoken since he’s woken up. His eyes are fixed on Jin Ju.

“I meant to send her breakfast, but she awoke earlier than I had originally planned. We both fell asleep before I could offer her something to ease her hunger. So I apologize for my incompetency.”

Something deep down clenches inside of him. The words are spoken blankly, as if there’s isn’t a hint of empathy behind them. But there is.

And maybe there always was. Could he be wrong about Un?

Aren’t you always?

He takes a shaky breath, but before he can reply, the other has already removed himself from beside him. He finds a place by Jin Ju, and begins to pour the wine into the small tumblers. The woman and the men that flanked her are already gone, so it’s just the three of them again. By the time the other two bring the table and the wine with them, Dong Soo already has his mask of careful calmness back in place.

“Ish!” The woman takes her pair of chopsticks and sticks a piece of fried fish into her mouth and begins to chew animatedly. She picks up the next piece and holds it to Dong Soo’s mouth.

He accepts graciously.

Before he knows it, all three are digging into the different dishes strewn across the tray, each in a distinct color with its own, wafting scent. Being weak in one arm, the other two seem to think he’s incapable of using the other one, so one minute he finds a piece of fish waiting for him in Jin Ju’s chopsticks, and the next there’s Un waiting with a piece of dried meat. Though he never fully looks him the eye- not since he stared into those deep, dark eyes when he fully awoke- he knows that the young man is grateful that he hasn’t tried to send him away.

Though he shouldn’t be. He should be annoyed.

And tired.

He should be angry.

But he's not.

And then he notices that Jin Ju hasn’t exactly said anything directly to him either. All this time, her comments have been either directed at Un, or no one. Not once has she dared to give Dong Soo a piece of her mind.  
In his reverie, he fails to notice Un’s string bean, and Jin Ju lightly flicks him on the forehead to regain his attention. He looks about, dazed, and a little embarrassed, but she simply smiles and beckons Un to place the boiled, green vegetable into his mouth.

And the ritual continues. Soon enough, the food is removed, and the already poured wine is placed on the tray. This time, Dong Soo uses his working hand to sip the diluted apricot drink. The sweet taste lightens the heavy load in his heart, and he willingly pours them all another before downing his own again. The sweets come last, but it’s back to the food business, and he finds one pastry from Jin Ju, and sixty seconds later, there’s a piece of dried fruit being held out by Un.

When the table is finally cleared and they’re all sitting in a circle, Dong Soo decides to break the ice “Thank you.”

“He’s the one who forgot to feed you earlier,” she drawls, but it isn’t meant to be harmful, and Dong Soo catches the fleeting smirk on Un's lips.

“Jin Ju-ah,” he scolds, though there’s a light spark of mirth dancing in his eyes.

“She’s right.” It’s Un, and his tone’s lightened. Dong Soo smiles.

“Of course I am.” She agrees and flicks an imaginary spider off her shoulder, before giving Dong Soo a mock-dirty look.

“This idiot always puts me out of commission, and because of him, Father doesn’t take me seriously anymore.”

Dong Soo’s taken aback. “I never sa-“

“Lies and deceit,” she cuts in with mock-dejection, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips. “I had to pick up a sword because he hid my arrows when he found out I stole from a merchant camp.” She says, nudging Un, purposefully ignoring him.

His eyes harden. “You shouldn't have been stealing to begin with. You said you would stop when I left again.”

“I forgot how much of the perfect gentleman you are now,” she jeers jokingly, flipping her ponytail when her eyes travel back to him.

“It has nothing to do with my proposed gentlemanliness. It has everything to do with conscientiousness and honesty,” he maintains.

The frivolity lurking in her eyes then sheds away, and an expression of solemnity comes forth. She nods her head in agreement, a broken smile etching itself on her lips. “I guess I got too far ahead of myself,” she says lightly. She looks down to her hands, and fiddles with her thumbs. Un's transient smiles also come to an abrupt end, and he tenses up a bit.

The iron curtain falls again.

He regrets opening his mouth. But before he can apologize for his misbehavior, a deeper, more stern voice takes the lead.

“It would be best if you both stayed here for the rest of the day. You can leave in the morning.”

He tries to speak again, but doesn't make it.

“I have to go Father and tell him he's safe,” she answers. “I'll be back at night and take him home in the morning.”

Un nods, approving of the agreement. “I'll have someone escort you to the village, and from there, you can go your way. When you're ready to return, simply wait where the escort has left you, and he will bring you back.”

The gravity in her eyes seem to have been lifted, and she's back to sporting her usual look of mild irritation. “Ugh, I hated that blindfold. Find more comfortable cloth, will you? I was scratching my eyes all last night," he whines, a pout beginning to form on her face. Un nods in agreement.

As the two continue their conversation, he cannot help but feel like like he's missed too much to bear. It's never occurred to him that they might have things in common. For twelve years, it's either been him and Un-ah, or just him with Cho Rip and the rest of the gang and Un-ah on his own.

But now, Joseon's best swordsman finds himself observing an interaction that, even in his childhood, had seemed impossible. Un never cared enough to join them in their ventures when they were still running around in their rags, and Jin Ju had never paid enough attention to him to pester him to join them. Before, being in the same vicinity with them, it was as if they simply tolerated each other for his sake.

For you.

And even now-while he sits with his legs crossed, his back propped against the pillows- it's about him, but not all about him. There's a kinship forming, he sees, a kinship he should have strived to make happen earlier.

Maybe, maybe if I'd tried to have them get along before, things would be different.

But, like always, it's a little too late.

And there's no going back to the start.

He feels a hand on his shoulder. His heart jumps at the sudden touch, and this time, it's Un's hand Jin Ju's eyes carefully examine his face, and the guilt begins to bubble terribly. Un's also decided to stare intently, because now his dark eyes are scrutinizing him.

Can you read my thoughts, Un-ah?

He thinks he can, because there's a slight squeeze on his shoulder. Jin Ju's eyes soften a bit more, and she breaks out another smile “I should get going then,” she begins, rising from the bed. She smooths the wrinkles on her trousers and fixes her collar. The warm hand is gone from his shoulder. Un, too, rises.

“I will have the escort ready once you've collected your things.”

She nods, and then looks to him again. “Dong Soo,” she says, sincerely. “Stay safe until I get back, OK?”

He wishes he has words to ferry out the sudden rush of emotions that flare up in his chest. But his throat is blocked.

“I will need to retire to my duties as well,” Un includes. “I shall return by nightfall. Perhaps, I will collect you myself,” he adds.

Jin Ju nods her head in acquiescence. “Just make sure the blind fold isn't dirty,” she warns.

The ephemeral quirk of the paler man's lips returns, and then fades. “As you wish.”

“Yup, because I'm a guest.” She adds with mock hoity-toityness.

“And guests are to be treated in equivalence to gods,” he concedes.

And because she's your friend.

“Exactly.” And she glances back at Dong Soo and flashes a smile before hurrying out the door.

“Un--”

“I will take her.”

“Thank you.” Tears threaten to spill over. But three years of practice in masking his emotions allows him to let the words flow out without a hitch.

But Un's never been that stupid.

Without looking at him, he adds. “Stay within this room. Gu Hyang will see to your needs.There's a room in the back with a pot and other toiletries. The candles and lanterns will be lit when the evening shade filters through the window screens. Guards are posted outside the door and in front and above every window. If there's anything you have want of, ring the bell in the drawer to your left. But by under no circumstances are you to leave this room.”

He thinks he should feel insulted, but he doesn't. Three years of teachings taught him well how to listen and act properly towards others. But when it comes to Un, he manages to forget everything, and Dong Soo knows the man is aware of this very fact.

He simply nods his head in surrender. He understands that if he tries to leave, he'll simply injure himself further, and injure Un's soldiers.

And make him hate me even more.

“Baek Dong Soo.” His name comes out harsher than Dong Soo would expect it to. “Listen to me. For once, just listen.”

Dong Soo's eyes drop to the silken sheets over his legs, and in the four seconds it takes for them to gaze up again, there's nothing left to gaze upon. Un's left the room, and he hears the locks click into place. He lets out a sigh and spreads out his legs once more.

When the sheets are fully over his shoulders and the pillows underneath his head, he lets the tears fall freely.  
 *******

  



	4. Chapter 4

**Dong Soo**  
  
He ends up sleeping through the day, his stomach full and his heart hollow. Just once does he climb out to use the chamber pot in the back room, but as soon as he manages to get underneath the covers again, his eyes close and he drifts off. He dreams of nothing. He doesn’t see glimpses of the samini, or flashes of his teacher. It’s simply a void of nothingness, and for that he’s grateful.  
  
But now that he’s awake again, he wishes he could have been a bit more productive. He hears sounds coming from outside his door and he thinks maybe they’ve returned.  
  
Instead, it’s the young woman who goes by Gu Hyang.  
  
“My Lord has issued for you to bathe and change. The bath with be set momentarily. For now, you’re to eat this.” She hands him a small tray filled with different types of dried fruits.  
  
“Komapseumida.” He bows his head. She doesn’t bother replying and shuffles out of the room, leaving him with the little tray. He decides to leave it on the stand next to the bed.  
  
Soon enough, three young women help bathe and clothe him before leaving to him to his own devices again. A short while later, the door clicks open and a figure slinks in, as quiet as the shadows Baek Dong Soo’s been taught to fear.  
  
“Un-ah,” he breathes.  
  
There’s a touch of grimness in the man’s face. “She was given trouble returning. Your people,” – Dong Soo can feel the slight hitch on the last word- “warned her not to leave and stay put. She managed to escape and make it to the designated spot in time before the patrolmen caught her.”  
  
“Is she OK?” He asks worryingly.  
  
“Physically, yes.”  
  
But she was probably yelled at.  
  
“I told her she could take a walk around the inner garden to calm her thoughts, if she’d like. She’s there now.”  
  
Dong Soo bows her head in shame, but there’s no room for kindess in Un-ah’s tone.  
  
“Thank you for saving her as well.” He adds meekly.  
  
“I helped her because we shared a common enemy.” He replies, his words as coldly executed as always.  
  
“But you were both-“  
  
“Our tolerance of each other does not equal a newly formed friendship, Baek Dong Soo.” He finishes for him. “You of all people should know how deceptive appearances are.”  
  
I should.  
  
He looks down at his hands, head bowed thoroughly in shame. Seconds later, Jin Ju saunters in with one hand on her hip near her sword belt. She plops down next to him with a grand sigh.  
  
“Father locked me in your room and left the samini to guard my door,” she begins. Eyeing the tray full of dry fruits, she plucks it from the stand and begins shoveling pieces into her mouth.  
  
He manages to give her a smile. “I heard you managed to escape.”  
  
“Of course,” she scoffs. “Samini didn't have a shot. She came to give me food, and I knocked her out from behind.”  
  
Dong Soo's eyes widen. “She wasn't hurt, was she?” He rushes.  
  
Jin Ju throws him a dirty look. “Do I look cruel enough to hurt a helpless girl?” She bites back. Dong Soo chooses not to answer. “Anywho, I simply hit one of the pressure points and she fell like a ton of rocks. I put her on your bedroll and made a run for it afterwards.”  
  
He let out a shaky sigh. “You could have just asked her,” he grumbles in return. “She probably would have let you go.”  
  
Jin Ju's face falls and she turns away from him and starts snapping the dried fruits into her mouth at a faster rate. “I put my butt on the line to make sure Woonie doesn't cut you up in your sleep, and what do I get in return? Not even a thank you.” She manages to grumble, the sweet fruits garbling her words.  
  
Dong Soo feels guilty again.  
  
“Perhaps we should all retire now,” he hears the quietest of them all say. “It's been an... eventful day, it seems. And you're both to return home tomorrow, so rest is required.”  
  
But Dong Soo's slept the entire day and he really don't want to drift off again.  
  
“Fine.” It's Jin Ju. She's returned the fruit tray back on its place on the stand, and begins to rise. “I need a bath and clean clothes. Mi So pushed me into the laundry pile while hauling me into his room. Didn't even say sorry.”  
  
Yeo Woon nods his head in agreement. “Same room?”  
  
She shrugs and walks out before Dong Soo can call her back.  
  
“Don't try.” Un-ah cuts in. “Sometimes, a thank you is all that is needed, Baek Dong Soo. Judging can always be done at a more appropriate time.” And then, he too, leaves.  
  
Dong Soo wants to bash his head into the nearest wall, but never has a chance to because a guilt and weariness only send him back to sleep again.  
  
 *******  
  
 **Jin Ju**  
  
The next morning, there’s a slight drizzle outside. She’s quick to get dressed and end up outside her door before Gu Hyang slinks in with the breakfast tray.  
  
“I assume you’ll be taking breakfast with your companion then,” says the older woman and resident medic, clearly not in the mood for an answer.  
  
“Um, no.” She replies, meekly nodding her head. “I-I’d like to speak with Woonie.”  
  
There’s a hardness in the woman’s jaw that Jin Ju’s been aware of these past few days. But she bows her head anyway. “Please wait here. I will leave this with the swordsman, and then I shall take you to him.”  
  
Jin Ju bows gratefully. While Gu Hyang walks in with the tray, she manages to take a peek at the man snuggled underneath the comforters.  
  
He’s still peacefully asleep, and suddenly, Jin Ju is glad she doesn’t have to join him.  
  
When the medic comes out, she beckons Jin Ju to follow her through the long hallway and down the stairs. Jin Ju realizes that they’re going to the indoor garden. She wonders what Woonie could be doing there so early in the morning.  
  
Sipping tea, of course. Sipping tea and nibbling on teacakes. And of course, there’s another cup and plate set out for another. Jin Ju should have known that Yeo Woon always had a sixth sense for these things.  
  
Gu Hyang bows deeply to her lord and disappears before Jin Ju can thank her. Soon enough, it’s just the two of them again.  
  
“You drugged his food?” She asks, knowing full well the answer is yes. She sits down next to him and takes a teacake into her hand, her eyes gazing upon the purple flowers that adorn a small patch in front of the blanket they share.  
  
“Yes,” he replies softly, almost inaudible. She can feel his eyes boring into her back, but she chooses to ignore the scrutinizing looks and focuses on the purple flowers.  
  
“If he stayed awake, the blindfold wouldn’t have helped. He would have smelled ad tracked the route, taken note of the scrunching beneath our feet. Felt the moisture in the air and the way the rain fell on our skin.” She can feel him nod in agreement behind her.  
  
“You could have put me to sleep.” An honest suggestion.  
  
“I could have.” An absent reply.  
  
“But you didn’t.” She finishes.  
  
“Because I trust you.” He adds.  
  
Because you know who my mother is. And you know I’d never give up the name and place of the only place she’s ever called home.  
  
They remain in perfect silence until Gu Hyang finds herself in the garden again, and announces that Baek Dong Soo is once more asleep and finally prepared for the journey. Yeo Woon is the first to rise, and then he holds out his hand to let her up. Without thinking, she takes it and allows it to help haul her from the ground.  
  
Once they’re outside, the drizzle is a tad bit heavier and she knows that once they’re at the drop off location, she’ll be soaked through and through without at protection.  
  
But when Woonie offers her a cloak, she denies it and instead asks for it to be draped over Dong Soo’s shoulder, even though he’s fully covered and unrecognizable to the world with the ensemble Gu Hyang’s applied to him. And once the silk cloth is fully restored above her eyelids, they begin their journey back.  
  
Dong Soo is draped over Woonie’s shoulder, and she’s holding his limp hand while the other is clutching Dong Soo’s sword. She trips over rocks and branches, sticks and stones- but not once does she fully fall. It’s because, somehow, the Sky Lord manages to catch her, even though both his hands are occupied.  
  
After some walking, Yeo Woon stops and Jin Ju lets go of Dong Soo’s hand. She hears him propping the swordsman against a tree. She quickly unties her cloth to see that the man is already walking away.  
  
“Take this back!” She calls.  
  
He doesn’t stop walking.  
  
 *******  
  
 **Jin Ju**  
  
She ends up waiting with him under the shade of the tree until the rain stops. Then, she helps relieve the dozing figure of his extra garments. Once Jin Ju’s removed the thick cloak and the three layers of robes and extra cloak, she sees that Woonie’s left Dong Soo with the same clothes he wore during his fight with the Ambassador.  
  
But the blue and black cloth is clean, and she sniffs the scent of roses emanating from it. The swath of fabric that was once torn by the sword tip is fully stitched together, and when Jin Ju touches it, she’s taken aback by how soft it is.  
  
Now, she has no doubt in her mind that these aren’t the original clothes, but replicas made of richer, more comfortable Chinese silks and cotton. And in such a short time, she muses.  
  
By the time she has the extra clothing tied in a bundle and his sword attached to her side, she sees Dong Soo twitch. She guesses he’s finally in the void between waking up and trying to go back to sleeping. She slings the bundle onto her back, and heaves one of his arms onto her shoulder. Then, she begins to guide him the rest of the way into the village.  
  
It’s Mi So who manages to catch her dragging Dong Soo’s wavering figure towards the hovel. She screeches and ends up gaining the attention of half the bystanders, causing Jin Ju to automatically want to facepalm. The younger girl then runs off back into the market square, no doubt to bring Sa Mo, leaving her in the midst of a bunch of old women and homeless children. She hears them ceaselessly gossip about how terrible of a wife she is that she couldn’t bring her thoroughly drunk husband home the night before. She hears about how thin and pale he looks, and how she hasn’t been feeding him well enough and how she deserves to be whipped a few times and taught how to be a better wife. She hears one women comment on her lack of a figure.  
  
But Jin Ju keeps her eyes down, qnd her arm around Dong Soo’s waist simply tightens. His head lolls listlessly on her shoulder, and she can hear the steady rhythm of his breathing in her ear. She manages to swerve herself out of the bystanders’ way, and find a spot next to a tree. Soon enough, the crowd’s dispersed, and it’s just Jin Ju and one homeless young girl, patiently waiting for Mi So to come back with Sa Mo.  
  
When Jin Ju senses them coming, she hands the homeless girl the bundle of cloth, Dong Soo’s sword, and a few coins. The girl nods gratefully and takes a place by Dong Soo’s side again. Before the two can see her, she slips out of sight.  
  
She finds herself in the forest again, but she doesn’t go the way she thinks Yeo Woon and the rest of Heuksa Chorong are. Instead, she begins walking towards the plains where she knows a stableboy who will lend her a horse and a quiver of arrows at a cheap price. She fingers the heavy bands of coins she’s collected in her fights. She thinks of Ji Sun, who she had to put asleep before she left. She thinks of the note she kindly tucked into her hands before she slunk away the night before. She touches the small, black marble at the bottom of her pocket. A lilting, soft voice catches her ear.  
  
She thinks of her mother.  
  
 *******  
  
 **Dong Soo**  
  
He wakes up to Ji Sun sitting beside him.  
  
Her small, perfect face graces a smile that makes his heart beat just a little faster. When he tries to get up, her hands are already aiding him. He instantly feels a little better.  
  
But he doesn’t remember getting here. He looks about his room with a befuddled expression. He sees his iron lamps, his simple candles, and his sword lying next to him. And suddenly, everything seems like a dream, but when his shoulder stings at the craning of his neck, he remembers that everything did happen, and that not too long ago, he even had breakfast.  
  
Un-ah, you drugged me.  
  
His eyes widen, and he shifts around frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jin Ju’s face.  
  
And Ji Sun knows because she puts a gentle hand over his shaking one. “She’s fine,” she assures hm.  
  
“D-did she get home safe?”  
  
She purses her lips. “Mi So saw her helping you up the road, but when she returned with Ajhusshi, she was already gone. She left your things with a young girl who patiently sat beside your side until they reached you.”  
  
“But why didn’t she come home?” He asked in disbelief, his hand beginning to clench into a fist.  
  
“She left a note when she put me to sleep.” She says softly, her hand tightening over his. “She’s already taken her gamble house earnings with her. Her father knows, but he hasn’t issued anyone to look for her yet.”  
  
“But why?” He strains. “I- I thought she said that they kept her locked inside for her safety.” He manages to finish.  
  
“They did.” She reassures. “But it was a silent pact with her father. If she could escape, she could leave and return whenever she pleased. He –“ -she takes a breath- “he knew she would be able to escape. He knew she needed some time alone. She has for a very long time. She only stayed because you came and went periodically. She was waiting for you to permanently return to the palace or here so she could take her leave.”  
  
Dong Soo can’t seem to wrap his head around this. “But why? Why would she want to leave?”  
  
Ji Sun doesn’t have an answer for that. Dong Soo, thoroughly exasperated, gets up. When he has his robes tightened around him and his sword on his waist again, he helps her up. But before he can take his leave, she holds his hand back.  
  
“Please, don’t look for her.”  
  
He’s reverted back into his mannerly persona- the one he learned to grasp and perfect in the mountains.  
  
“I can’t promise that.” He says honestly.  
  
And she lets go. He bows his head and leaves without another word.  
  
 *******  
  
 **Dong Soo**  
  
When he enters the meeting rom, the discussion is already running, tension brimming the air. Cho Rip is the first to acknowledge his presence.  
  
"Are you better?" The formerly bespectacled boy asks worryingly. Dong Soo nods his head, a hesitant smile etching his lips. He then turns to the elders. "I apologize for making you worry."  
  
“The brat lives.” The Old Mister guffaws, though a hint of relief relays in the back of his words. A string of prayers circle around the room, and his foster father gets up and helps him settle into a chair.  
  
Soon enough, Dong Soo too, manages to engross himself into the conversation. Ji Sun, surprisingly, follows in a few minutes later, and silently takes a seat next to him. No one mentions the happenings of the past few days, even though he knows the information about the gambling house exploits is soon to be revealed. He just sincerely hopes that Un-ah’s name doesn’t come up any where in the conversation.  
  
“So we know the Defense Minister’s planning something,” the Old Mister concludes. “Exactly what, we can’t pinpoint yet.”  
  
“But we can assume theories,” Dong Soo adds.  
  
“From my observations, each of the disappearances tallied back to fighters who participated in three of the games.”  
  
“Why three?” Sa Mo gripes. “Why not two? Five? Be damned, only three!”  
  
“Time.” Dong Soo surmises. “He and his people cannot afford to waste time. And these disappearances aren’t even disappearances.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He hears from down the table.  
  
“He’s buying them out. These fighters- they’re all rogues. No family, no friends. They’re wanderers looking for thrill and some money. The War Minister has that and some more to offer.”  
  
‘He’s raising his own private army.” Says the Old Mister revealed to be a General.  
  
“For what, we still haven’t a clue.” Dong Soo sighs.  
  
"We need more information," asserts the General.  
  
"And tailing him might be the only way," Cho Rip begins. He looks to Dong Soo with a worried expression, and Dong Soo doesn't wait for him to ask.  
  
"It's fine. I can do it."  
  
“Yeo Woon will be there," the younger man continues.  
  
Dong Soo freezes. “What?”  
  
“Dong Soo.” He hears Sa Mo say. “Yeo Woon isn’t the same as he used to be. Just because he did you one favor doesn’t mean he’s willing to so you another one. The War Minister is a client of his.”  
  
“And he probably has a contract,” adds the Old Mister. “Assassins don’t break contracts unless absolutely necessary.”  
  
“But he saved my life.” Dong Soo gripes, a look of displeasure gracing his features. “Surely, that’s breaking his contract.”  
  
“This brat.” The Old Mister grumbles. “Since when does the Defense Minister care about you? He had the Ambassador play with you for kicks, to test the assassin. You- you were an afterthought.”  
  
Not to Un-ah.  
  
But he nods his head grimly. “I will see when we meet again. He's only an assassin, and I only a swordsman. We will see."  
  
"Let's hope you don't." Cho Rip clips in response, visibly irritated.  
  
“Then we’re finished here,” the General says curtly. He and Cho Rip both rise and bow. Sa Mo follows them out the door. Soon enough, it’s just Dong Soo and the samini.  
  
She places a warm hand on his uninjured shoulder. He wants to reach back and grasp it, but decides against it. He feels a ghost hand grasping that same shoulder.  
  
Un-ah.  
  
A young woman’s face begins to form in front of his eyes, skin as pale and flawless as sea pearls. He can feel her hand in his, though he can’t quite remember when.  
  
Jin Ju.  
  
The samini leaves not long after, and finally, it’s just him.  
  
Alone.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

The dining hall of the War Minister is not as elaborately dressed as always. For once, the gold and red tapestries are no where to be found, instead replaced with pale greens and blues. There’s a calm in the room Yeo Woon doesn’t usually have the courtesy of feeling.

“I see that you are well.” The older man is blunt, but courteous. He takes a sip of his tea, his son and the Japanese ambassador following suit with his actions.

Only Yeo Woon doesn’t touch his drink. He doesn’t even look at it.

“I am. Is there a particular reason you’ve requested for my presence?” He beings thinly. “I would like to remind you are not my only client, Minister Sir.”

The older man chuckles. He can see his son’s eyes boring into his head, but the Sky Lord can care less.  _does_  ve better things to pay attention to. Things that didn’t involve the Minister and his needless thirst for power.

“Where are my _nners_ , Sky Lord?” The minister retorts mockingly. “I had forgotten how busy you were, being the head of the dogs and whatnot.”

The Japanese Ambassador keeps his mouth closed while the father and the son burst out laughing. This time, there is no shame, and Yeo Woon begins to mentally leaf through the list of hits he has to take out in the next month, and if Sa hae or Hong Dae Jo are on any of them. And indiscreet frown graces his lips when he realizes that no one was kind enough to buy out their lives.

“Do you know why I tolerate your rude behavior?” The minister asks, his tone darker.

“I wonder myself.” He finishes blankly. The man is taken aback. The vein on his forehead begins to bulge, and Yeo Woon begins to think perhaps the Gods of birth have made a big enough mistake that resulted in Hong Dae Jo being born as a human when he clearly looks like he should have been born an ox.

Castrated male bovine, he thinks. Gu Hyang would agree.

“No need to wonder.” The minister manages to say. “I only need you to carry letters back and forth. After that, you and your dogs can return to whatever it is you do in your little hellhole.” He finishes scathingly.

“If a messenger is what his noble Minister requires, I’m sure I can prepare one from a neighboring courier service.” He says honestly.

“No, fool!” The ox-like man bellows.

The Sky Lord doesn’t say anything, but even Kenzo, the Japanese Ambassador, realizes that the comment isn’t one befit for a leader of a three generations old assassin’s guild. Kenzo clears his throat, and even Sa Hae drops his eyes fearfully.

But Hong Dae Jo seems to think Yeo Woon will take this and go with it, because the disgusting contortions of rage on his face do not pass. Yeo Woon decides to humor him.

“Whatever do you mean?” he asks, and quite stupidly at that.

“You’ll see.” He grits through his teeth. “On to the next order of business then. How about that Sword Saint’s brat? The one you whisked away before the battle ended?”

He feels Kenzo tense, and Sa Hae has yet to raise his head.

“I only did so to preserve my rights to a fight to the death against Baek Dong Soo,” he lies through his teeth. “Perhaps  _your_  gs had kept their swords in line and their fingers out of the water kettle, I would have simply remained put and watched.”

“Really, now?” The tone is sarcastic, and even a bit cruel. His son begins to raise his head by then, and shakily takes a sip of his tea. “Sa Hae did as he had to,” continues the Defense Minister, heartily biting into his biscuit. “I don’t begrudge him for that. The riot brought some passion to the arena.”

“There were deaths.” The Sky Lord cuts in.

“Deaths that are as meaningless as the shit underneath your boots.” The Defense Minister corrects. “And the match was only beginning to climax. I’m sure the brat and his companions would have been able to hold off the rioters and made it out before things became worse. And Kenzo was under direct orders not to kill. So really, Sky Lord, you had no _ght_.”

He wants to remind the Defense Minister that assassins guilds are independent of the law. They are never taxed by the government, and only acknowledged by law enforcement if the law itself needs to make use of them. Therefore, Yeo Woon is outside the law.

Because Yeo Wo  _is_  e guild, just like every other assassin lord in Joseon. Out of the four that exist, he rules from the West, the second oldest guild. His word is law in his sector, and the law of the kings have no effect on him. He wishes to remind the Defense Minister of this excruciatingly obvious fact.

But before he can, the Defense Minister whips out a card Yeo Woon knows he should have handled years ago.

“The brat has guts.” The minister begins absently. “Coming into Hangyang with no one but a pitiful adviser and deadbeat rebels. Born of a dying clan no less, and the son of a former rebel leader. I always wonder what would happen if the King were to find out that the brat still lives. The Sword Saint is dead as well, so now there’s no one to vouch for him. I wonder what would happen should he be charged with disturbing the peace in the vicinity of my holdings.”

Yeo Woon’s hand clenches beneath the table, tearing into the fabric of the soft cloth he kneels over.

“But that’s clearly hypothetical, isn’t it, Sky Lord?” he adds sweetly. ‘”Surely, the brat knows where to keep his nose out of.”

“Baek Dong Soo is an honorable man. He would never hurt anyone unless absolutely forced to.” He replies blankly, though there’s a curious tint of hesitation in the words.

“Well, of course, no less honorable than my men,” the nobleman replies haughtily. Yeo Woon urges himself not to laugh. “Anywho, I think it should then be presumed that the brat knows his place. And if he doesn’t…”

“And if he doesn’t?” There’s no underlying threat in his question- only simple curiosity.

Hong Dae Jo takes a long sip of his tea. “He’s an honorable fighter.” He asserts.

“An honorable man.” He adds solemnly.

“Like the Sword Saint.” There’s a touch of solemnity in the Minister’s tone. “But honor doesn’t always exist in every man.”

Yeo Woon couldn’t agree more.

“Honor,” the Minister says aloud, “honor exists only where there is no place for ruthlessness.”

_Honor is for cowards._

“Baek Dong Soo fights with honor, and I’m sure he intends to die with it.” The older man continues. “But, I ask of you, Sky Lord, will everyone be as kind and generous as Kenzo and you? To give him an honorable fight? Will my fighters always be as honorable as they seem?”

_There is no honor in your soldiers._

“No.” He replies softly instead.

The Minister nods, a smile beginning to creep onto his face as he sips the last of his tea. “Even the most honorable of men die the most dishonorable of deaths, Sky Lord. You should know. Your kind is usually the cause of it.”

Yeo Woon understands.

“Indeed so.” He finishes blankly. “Shall I take my leave then,” he asks, even though he’s already rising.

“Of course.” The noblemen waves his hand dismissively. “I will call for you when I nee-“

But Yeo Woon is already out of the room and out of their sight.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

When Yeo Woon is outside, he sees Guu Hyang waiting patiently for him, her composed form a breathtaking view in the dim moonlight. She bows her head deeply, before finding a place behind him as they swiftly begin to leave the Defense Minister’s quarters.

“My Lord does not feel well.” She claims softly, firmly trailing behind him, her hands folded over her stomach. They glide through the forest floor, leaving behind little to no trace.

“Did you find out what I needed?” He asks, not bothering to deny her comment.

“Yes, my Lord. The informants tell us that the Minister is indeed building weapons and purchasing the soldiers from the gambling house.”

“His own private army and weapons storage.” He surmises.

“The metal is also being used to make rifles, my Lord.” She adds.

Yeo Woon has heard of them. “Acquire the type they're bulding and import a few to the base.”

“As my Lord permits.”

“Make sure no one but the three lieutenants know of this.”

“Yes my Lord.” But there’s a tinge of hesitation in her voice, and the tinge causes Yeo Woon to instantly freeze in his tracks.

“What is it?” He asks firmly.

Gy Hyang takes a deep breath. “There are some… complications, my Lord. Whether they need your immediate attention or not is something I have yet to evaluate.”

Yeo Woon grinds his teeth. “Leave the gun business to the three lieutenants. Send Jang Tae San and Baekmyeon Seosaeng undercover to the gambling house. I want you to work on the complications. Tell me when you have a full report.”

He cannot see her, but he can feel her lip upturn the slightest bit. A gentle smile brimming with pride and affection. He can feel her heart surging, though he pities it more than anything else.

“Return to the base. I will be there shortly.” She doesn't bother asking why he's not coming with her, and curtly nods before disappearing to his right. After he can no longer hear the light taps of her feet, he continues to walk straight until he reaches a clearing. Then, he makes his way to the village.

Though it's late, the fire is still still being burning at the hearth of the hovel. The flames lick the clay stillment, sparks flying here and there once in a while. Sitting a few feet away from the tinder is the one who's haunted his dreams since he was twelve years old.

Baek Dong Soo is solemnly crouched over something with his working arm silently shifting, his head slightly craning to the side.

_Painting._

Baek Dong Soo has beautiful fingers, he remembers. Nimble and strong, but gentle and understanding. Had he not been sent to the warrior camp, Yeo Woon knows he could have easily passed the civil service exam and managed to find a position at court for his artistic talent. Or even went overseas to find work.

_China, Japan. Far, far away._

The Sky Lord soundlessly finds a shadowed area next to one of the surrounding shacks with a clearer view of the young man and his work. Once Yeo Woon knows no one can see nor hear him, he takes a deep breath and gazes upon the young man's visage, no more than ten feet away from him. His face his scrunched up in concentration, his fingers and hands moving blithely across the rice paper. The mat beneath him is stained with splotches of ink that managed to fall when he first began, Yeo Woon thinks. When they were younger, he would always get paint and ink on his face, with all the constant scratching of his nose and chin. But now, now the ink stains the mat, and parts of his fingers, but not a bit touches his face. The flawless, dark brown skin remains unmarred.

Just like his soul. Just like his heart.

_If I can get rid of this killer fate, can I see you again, Baek Dong Soo? Can I sit beside you, every single day for the rest of my life, watching you paint the world with all the colors of the universe at your disposal? Me, whose hands are stained with the blood of hundreds, will I be able to receive your forgiveness?_

There's a call from inside, and the Sky Lord inches back. He then sees his foster father amble out of one of the rooms, and wave for the young swordsman to come in. Dong Soo, in all his glory, simply nods politely and places his brush back into the inkpot. Soon enough, he's put away all the items into a small thatch beneath the wooden stillment he'd been sitting on.

But the paper with the drawing remains out. He punctures a hole into the top and loops a thick cord through it. He hangs it near one of the doors. Then, he disappears inside the house. Yeo Woon, now assured that the family is all inside, only gets close enough to see the painting.

What he sees is two thrones, sitting upon a dais. Thick, flowery vines coil around the two seats, joining them together is a maddeningly beautiful embrace. As if they were lovers. Inanimate lovers. Lovers who could never touch, but could connect with the help of the ropes of beauty that curl at the feet of the seats, coil around them, and then bind them together.

As he recedes into the darkness and away from the hovel, the beauty of it all brings a smile to his face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dong Soo**

He follows their trail all the way to the Defense Minister's mansion.

He stays six or seven trees behind, silently lurking behind the oaks, diligently keeping an eye out for any secret guard that might attack him if he's caught. But thus far, there are none.

As he slinks along the shadowy banks of the roadside, he thinks back on the past week he's spent shadowing Hong Dae Jo's manse. Sometimes, one of the palace guards would join him in his venture, and they'd divvy up the ground to be covered. But most of the time, Dong Soo lurks around on his own, buried deep within his thoughts.

Sometimes, it's Un-ah haunting his memories. Him and his silent demeanor, his blank expression.

_As calm as the sea, as immovable as the mountains._

Sometimes he'll think he's being followed, but then he turns around, they're only children looking for food. Other times, he's sure someone's following him, but the ajusshi or the ajumma will always deny his allegations and tell him to find something useful to do.

And at the rarest of times, he'd like to swear he sees Un-ah himself, even though their last, true meeting was back in... whatever that place was. One that he never truly received a chance to explore.

He's pulled out of his reverie when he sees target make a turn. Tonight is important, he remembers.

_Focus._

He doesn't know who the person in the palanquin is, but he knows they'd have to be of utmost importance to be able to afford the number of guards that faithfully followed and protected them the entire journey. So Dong Soo stays farther behind this time, and shifts about even more silently than he was taught.

After a while, his thoughts drift to the woman he caught glimpse of the morning earlier, the afternoon the day before, and numerous other times throughout the seven days. The first time he saw her, it was pouring heavily outside and he was with Sa Mo, collecting meat and veggies for supper. He saw her familar figure and another hauling the body of a dead boar. He was about to drop the meat and run after her when he realized that he'd have nothing of great import to say to her when he finally caught up. So he let her go that one time.

The next time he saw her, they were both in the forest. This time he was alone, and he dashed to catch up to her- but faltered in his running when he realizes tha  _she_  asn't alone. The young boy who helped her carry the boar came along on a horse, and told her to come take them for a ride before his master came home. Hidden behind the oaks, he heard her say yes. Then a chuckle, a hearty ruffle of the boy's hair, someone climbing aboard, and finally, the clap of the horse hooves that told him that they'd disappeared into the greenery.

The third time, she was drinking alone at a tavern on the border of a nearby village. This time, he was determined to be able to speak to her, demand answers for her disappearance, and beg her to come back with him.

But fate had written a rogue into the story, and soon enough, he found himself surrounded by drunkards and rogue fighters. By the time they were sprawled across the ground, she was gone. He asked the lady tavern owner if he knew which way she went, and the old woman solemnly answered that she had no interest in the directions of her clients no matter who it was asking.

And the incidental glimpses continued, but each time, something or another held him back from properly confronting her.

_Jin Ju._

After all these years, he thinks. Her heart shaped face has a habit of appearing in front of him more often than not these days. Sometimes, he sees her in places he knows she would never step foot in. Once or twice, he even mistakes the samini for her. The same goes for Un-ah and his visage- he swears on the graves of his parents that he's seen him one or twice trailing behind in the shadows as he moved across the market place with his adoptive father.

Sometimes, his heart begins to clench at the thought of them never coming home.

_Why didn't you stay with me?_

But the time to dwell comes to an end when the palanquin and its party finally comes to a stop in front of Hong Dae Jo's main house.

_I'll find you. Both of you. After I finish this, I'll find you, and I'll apologize._

He nods grimly before darting forward into the shadows and gaining closer acess to the house.

_And if I don't, I just wanted you to know._

The moonlight above seems to flicker.

_I'm sorry._

**

**Dong Soo**

He peeks from behind the side of one of the elongations of the manse. From there, he views a familiar face.

It's Gu Hyang, he realizes. The young woman who aided him when he was in Un-ah's...

_I never left that room conscious._

He decides there's no time to be bitter about it, and calculates just who and how many of them are present. Then he catches her eyes. He expects her to tattle, but instead, her lips press into a firm line and her eyes shoot daggers at him, the look instilling the tiniest bit of apprehension in his heart. It's a warning, he knows. Leave now and forever hold your peace, it assures, but it also threatens that should he not turn back, this foreseeable future of his was indeed grim.

But Baek Dong Soo doesn't have time for hypothetical situations. Instead, he slips away from the crowd and decides to trail them from farther away.

But before he knows it, there's a stray soldier screeching for him to stand back. He curses his luck and in an instant knocks the man back on his feet. He hears the loud, crunching steps of the other soldiers begin to rush towards him. He readies his sword. When the twenty or so soldiers appear in front of him, he reminds himself that he's here for a reason and that there are things on the line at the moment- things he cannot begin to explain to these poor fellows.

_I'll bring you both back. After this ends, I'll bring you both home._

Without a second thought, he lunges into battle headfirst.

*******

**Jin Ju**

When the opponent comes barraging towards her with the hammer, she ducks.

And then throws some dirt in his face.

The move is cheap, she knows, but the twat hasn't once tried to use his fists, like she has. So she decided earlier on that she would use one of the cheaper tricks. And thankfully, the referee doesn't call it. Before the giant can lug the thing up again, she manages to kick it out of the ring and out of his reach. He bellows at her in response, grasping a thick swatch of her hair and then begins to swing her around.

But she copes when her agile feet catch the side of the wall beside the ring. She flips over the thing's head and ends up behind him. Before he can turn around, she manages to indistretly puncture three pressure points, instantly causing him to go down in one knee.

Cheers break out, and a wide array of gasps and hoots. Someone throws a flower at her. She, again, manages to duck right in time. Before the giant can pick himself up and attempt to kill her again, she performs a roundhouse kick.

Less than ten seconds later, she's declared the winner, and a round of applause echoes throughout the gambling house that only a week before was the holder of a rather needless riot. Another flower, and this time, she catches it. The little girl who threw it screams.

_Two down. Time to go._

She collects her cash at the counter, but before the band of coins is handed over, the counter gives her a scrutinizing look, as if he'd seen her before.

_Him. I'm a 'him' when I'm here._

But he doubts himself in the end, and hands over the coins anyway. Without counting (because it's more for the thrill anyway) she attatches the coins to her hip and then takes a place in the crowd, ready to witness the next match.

She's been back since the night after she dropped Dong Soo off. Riding horses early in the morning, hunting for quail and boar in the afternoon, and then coming here to fight in a new disguise every night. Two fights a night, two rounds of wins. Once in a while she'll lose, sometimes purposefully and other times because she was weak.

When she loses because of her weaknesses, she ends up borderline massacring her opponent the next night. And the ritual continues, people cheer and boo, sometimes flowers are tossed in and sometimes pebbles. Once or twice, knives also begin to thrust into the arena, but at least she comes prepared.

She manages to miss the next fight in her reverie, and decides it's time to call it a night.

As she begins to leave for her place at the inn not too far away, something amiss catches her attention. She turns around and swears she sees a swish of dark red and blue cloth hover a few feet away from her. When she draws out her neck to see who it is, she sees nothing of the sort. She discerns that it's probably only a trick of her eye and ends up turning back towards the exit.

She lightly scratches her head and it isn't long before she's out the door and heading for her makeshift home.

*******

**Dong Soo**

After about a half and hour of ceaseless fighting later, Baek Dong Soo manages to find himself inside a room full of robed men and one woman.

“This fellow!” Calls one of the kneeling men.

Hong Dae Jo is quick to recover from the intrusion. “You dare come and cause trouble at a place and time like this?” He seethes.

The woman behind the screen seems only fazed, but not concerned. “Send him away,” she enunciates rather simply, only a hint of annoyance lacing her command.

But he's come too far to let this just be. Too far. He still had promises to keep, people to apologize to.

“This is wrong.” He clenches through his teeth, heaving at every word as the pains thrum throughout his body.

The minister's glare hardens. “Brat-” he begins

Dong Soo goes to open his mouth again, but suddenly there's a sword behind his neck. He blinks his eyes in confusion. He could swear to all the gods that he'd defeated every guard inside and outside the manse.

“What a pleasure to see you again, Sky Lord.” The minister clips, thoroughly displeased.

_Sky Lord? The Sky Lord is here?_

The tip of the sword digs deeper behind his neck, but it doesn't puncture the skin. Dong Soo suddenly wishes he'd run after Jin Ju that day in the rain. He wishes he could have questioned that ajusshi a bit more harshly, and make him tell him where it was Un-ah was lurking.

“Do us all a favor, Sky Lord.” The woman presses. “Take him away and leave us.”

Dong Soo grips his sword.

_Who are you?_

The sword tip leaves his neck. Someone yanks his sword out of his hand, two others grasping on to his arms. They begin to haul him away, but the one who held the sword at his neck still refuses to show himself.

When he's thrown a woman's feet, his heart skips a beat.

_No._

When his eyes reach Gu Hyang's, she looks down on him, an expression of displeasure and pity gracing her features.

_No._

The sword tip is again on the back of his neck.

“Leave now.” He hears the cold, familiar voice cut through.

_No, it can't be. I nev-_

“Enough, Baek Dong Soo!” The harsh voice adds, exasperated. “Get up and get yourself back to your little dunghole. And stay out of this.” He feels his sword clatter next to him. But he doesn't reach for it. He's far too in shock.

Gu Hyang moves away from him and out of his sight, the expression of pity never leaving. Despite the sword digging into the back of his neck, he still cranes his neck back to see the familiar faces.

But when he tries too hard, the tip actually cuts into the flesh. But he doesn't yelp. He doesn't even make a sound. He simply turns around to see his once, greatest friend and the medic who most likely saved his life.

And something inside instantly shatters.

_Un.... ah._

But Ye- the Sky Lord. The Sky Lord looks down on him like he's the most disgusting piece of thing he's ever had the unfortunate circumstance of happening upon. Looks down on him like the filth he is.

_Un-ah._

Suddenly, the thought of Jin Ju disappearing makes more sense.

_.... She knew?_

The refusal to speak irks the paler man, and he ends up putting his sword back into the scabbard on his back and grasps Dong Soo's collar and hauls him up. But seconds later, he's back on the ground, his lip split and cheek burning.

Then there's a sharp kick to his side, and another, and another one comes for him, but he grabs a hold of the leg before it can attack him again.

He feels a thick glob of saliva hit him on the bruising cheek. Of all the soldiers he's taken down in the past half hour, not one has come close to injuring his face.

But Un-ah. Un-ah's bruised and spat at it in less than five.

_Jin Ju, did you know? Did you leave because of it?_

“You fool.” The latter grits, his tone deadly quiet. “In the end, you couldn't save anyone, not a single person. Would you like me to remind you that this same incompetence, this impulsive righteousness of yours, is exactly what led to all their deaths?”

Dong Soo hitches a breath.

_Is that why you left, Jin Ju? Because you didn't want me to know?_

But Un-ah doesn't stop. “All the lies you told, telling them you'd protect them. Do you know how many were stupid enough to listen to you? Stupid enough to endure the pain you led them to feel?”

_Did I hurt you too, Un-ah?_

Tears, Dong Soo thinks, are pricking his eyes. And there's another crack in his chest. It's either a broken rib, or perhaps it's his heart on the verge of shattering-again.

But Un-ah doesn't seem to hear it. “Put away this make-believe justice of yours, and go home. Go home, and don't interfere again, or so help me, I will make sure not a trace of you remains in Joseon when I'm done with you.”

And with that, he's gone. The woman follows, and Dong Soo is left alone in the courtyard.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

When he returns with Gu Hyang trailing behind him, the last of the Queen’s soldiers and guard have already made their way back to the palace.

And Baek Dong Soo is no where to be seen either. He quietly counts his prayers, and gratefully nods towards the sky, thanking whatever is up there for its help.

Gu Hyang bows before taking her place by the house steps. He nods and quickly glides into the manse. The first person he lays his eyes on is the Defense Minister, his hands dangerously gripping a ceramic tumbler no doubt filled to the brim with heavily concentrated rice wine.

“Don’t sit.” He clips, the tumbler in his hand shaking. “You have work to do.” Yeo Woon raises an eyebrow. The older man takes a swig of his alcohol, instantly finishing it. “Finish him off,” he growls, wiping his mouth with the back of his elaborate robes.

His heart stops.

“Surely, he couldn’t have caused that much tro-”

“You lied to me, Sky Lord.” He cuts him off. “You said he knew his place, that he fought with honor. He spied on me.  _embarrassed_  in front of the Queen.” He sneers, filing up his tumbler with more wine and then downing it again in one go. “I can’t have him making any more surprise appearances. So either you finish him off for me, Sky Lord, o  _wi_ find someone else to do the job.” The Minister threatens.

“You’re blowing the situation out of proportion. He simply walked in. He didn’t hear, nor did he see anything that should be an issue with you. He didn’t know that was the Queen sitting behind the screen. Only a woman an-“

“FINISH HIM OFF OR I WILL FINISH YOU, BRAT!”

The sudden outburst causes Kenzo to tense. Yeo Woon catches the man’s hand silently hover over his sword. Sa Hae doesn’t dare look his father in the eye. Yeo Woon ear perks when he hears an indiscreet rustle outside the screen sliding doors. He guesses Gu Hyang is no longer there and that shortly enough, she’ll be returning with a troop of Heuksa Chorong’s secret guard quietly stationed less than thirty yards away.

Yeo Woon has a feeling none of this will end well.

“Minister Sir,” he begins tiredly. “Surely, this is only your anger talking.”

The minister’s ensuing laugh is displeasing to his senses. But there’s a grim understanding beneath the cackle. An understanding that this wa  _is_ \- far beyond the point of simple tomfoolery.

_Baek Dong Soo._

“Your little friend doesn’t know his place.” The Minister gripes. “Get him out of my w  _tonight_ , Sky Lord, or there will be dire consequences.”

He catches the silent rustle of Gu Hyang’s skirts outside the screen door, and he knows that there are six guards stationed outside, ready to storm the manse’s room in silence and promptly execute the patrons inside- all on his command.

“Baek Dong Soo means enough to him to protect, Defense Minister. Their blood debt to each other is something that cannot be resolved in one evening.” It’s Kenzo’s regal, firm voice. One that barely cuts in these types of conversations. “Perhaps the Sky Lord can try to convince the swordsman to lay down his sword in accordance to this matter?” He suggests.

“No! No time for that! If you can’t kill him, don’t! But make him stop. Make sure he never steps foot on my property again, Sky lord.” He warns. “Make sure he never steps foot again, or I won’t hesitate to chop them off the next time he does.”

He feels Gu Hyang tense behind the sliding doors. He can sense blood on her hands, though she’s no where near him. She’s killed Hong Dae Jo’s guards herself, he understands. There are more og hid people now, he guesses, as one of the lamps that distantly flickered in the direction to his left before is no longer alive.

No one in the room but Kenzo seems to understand that Hong Dae Jo has thoroughly angered one of the most powerful associations in Joseon. Yeo Woon decides that if he does command the guards to come in, he’ll signal them to let Kenzo leave in one piece.

“I only have use for you regarding one thing, Sky Lord.” The older man continues. “But it seems that for one, tiny excuse, I have to suffer the interference of a naïve little boy and his band of righteous idiots. I can handle the adviser and the prince’s three guards, but this fool- this fool is what we cannot hope to have in our way when the plan is set into motion. He needs to be remove _now_.”

“Then I will handle him.” The fourth generation Sky Lord finally replies. “I will do as Minister Sir requests, and the deed will be done tonight.”

He can feel a look of disbelief grace Kenzo’s face, but the Japanese doesn’t dare say anything.

“Good.” The nobleman grumbles. “Leave us now.”

Yeo Woon bows and promptly complies.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

When he’s outside again, there’s no one in sight. When he’s out of Hong Dae Jo’s quarters and in the forest, he sees Gu Hyang standing by two pinesm her eyes firmly gazing into the ground beneath her feet. Filed behind her are twelve kneeling assassins, all garbed in the traditional red and black of Heuksa Chorong. As he gets closer, he notices that the blood reeks most from the woman, who in response is as flawlessly primp and proper as she always is. And though he sees that not a speck of blood touches her skirts or robe, the knives and shurikens deftly hidden underneath her sleeves are all coated with the flesh and blood of the guards that once sauntered the courtyard of Hong Dae Jo’s manse.

“My Lord,” she nods respectfully, her eyes never leaving the ground. The kneeling troop simply bow, their noses touching the ground and then rising to their full height. Their eyes too, remain plastered to the ground.

“Leave me.” He announces curtly. “I will not be returning tonight. Follow Gu Hyang’s orders till I return.”

The troop of twelve know better than to question their supreme lord, and bow one last time before they turn to Gu Hyang for orders.

But Gu Hyang has fought, toiled, and shed more blood than Yeo Woon ever will. Seven years his senior, she’s followed the path of the assassin since birth, not since an accidental murder, like he. She has nothing to lose in this life, or the next. She juts her head to one side, and immediately, the troops understand and quickly file out into the night and back to the base. Soon enough, it’s only him and her in front of two pines and the bright moonlight.

“You will have to kill him.” She enunciates, her tone blank.

“I will do as I have to, to make him stop.” He replies tightly, leaving no room for conversation.

But Gu Hyang fear  _for_  im, not of him.

“But you won’t kill him.” She exasperates. “Even though you have to. If you don’t, Hong Dae Jo will never leave you in peace.”

“That is none of your concern.” He clips shortly, beginning to move away from her scrutinizing tone.

“You are Heuksa Chorong,” she bites back. “Yo  _are_  y concern. Your well-being concerns every man who bowed down to you the day the former Sky lord named you his heir apparent. With what’s going on within the guild right now, you cannot afford to make an enemy of the Defense Minister.”

Yeo Woon clenches his fists. “What would you have me do?” He asks, politely, though there’s a deadly cruelty lacing his words.

But Gu Hyang doesn’t fear him. She respects him. The differences between the two terms still manage to baffle Yeo Woon to this day.

“End Baek Dong Soo’s meddling in his plans, my Lord.” She pleads courteously. “We can end this problem. We can complete the contract and move on to the more dire issue at hand.”

The Sky Lord looks to the night sky, his fists unclenching, a deep breath escaping his lips.

“Should I not return by noon, take over permanently.”

Gu Hyang’s head snaps up to his face so quick, he swears he hears a bone crack in the neck.

“What? My Lo-”

“They will follow your every word, and you will able to reason with… the others. You will no doubt make an excellent commander.”

When they finally look at each other, face to face, he sees that her expression is akin to that of someone who’s just seen a beloved die before them. He can hear the trenches of her hearts begin to deepen and moisture prick the corners of her light brown orbs.

“My Lord, they wi-“

“They will do as they should have from the very beginning.” He finishes for her.

He can see the cloth rise, her hands balling into fists as she struggles to keep her emotions intact.

“My Lord, as immovable as the Taesan and as calm as the sea.” She begins blankly, though he knows that deep down, she’s beginning to crumble. “My Lord will let the one that killed his father come to be tonight. My Lord will become as easily provoked as the will of storms- as visibly torn as the gods of life and death.”

His expression softens as pity tugs at the strings of his heart.

“My Lord will let the swordsman finish him tonight.” She concludes. “Perhaps not in death, but my Lord of tonight will not be the same as my Lord of tomorrow morning, should he manage to survive.” She finishes her vice barely over a whisper. “Baek Dong Soo will kill my Lord- and my Lord will let him.” And there’s nothing else left to be said.

He leaves her standing by the trees.

*******

**Dong Soo**

He finds himself back in the hovel an hour later, a visible limp to his step. Cho Rip, Mi So, and Ji Su frantically come to dress his wounds and take his temperature, but all he can do is think back.

And think forward.

_I have to finish this._

He touches his bruised cheek and lightly grimaces at the amount of pain it causes him, though it’s nothing compared to the conglomerate of other bruises and bumps adorning his body.

He remembers what he's learned in the mountains. Then he remembers his promises.

_Jin Ju, you knew. But you protected me from the truth. And for that, I will forever be grateful. I'll bring you back, I swear._

He can't leave this undone, no matter what the circumstances. His old friend may have become the supreme leader of the enemy camp, but there’s always been a nagging feeling inside him that told him that this would have been the eventual conclusion.

_Un-ah._

Un-ah never fought fate.

_Jin Ju._

He knows Jin Ju lives her life knowing she doesn’t have a set path for her, therefore she makes her own. But now both he and she, two people close to his heart, are no longer in his vicinity. One an enemy, one an outsider.

_Why?_

The feeling leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and Cho Rip places a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he allows himself to relax and heal from the beatings he took from the soldiers and the current Sky Lord. One win from the soldiers, one loss from the Sky Lord.

_Sky Lord._

He grimaces.

_No. Un-ah. His name is Un-ah. He’s no Sky Lord- he’s my best friend._

Mi So covers him with a shawl, and he politely thanks her before addressing Cho Rip.

“It will happen tonight.” He tells the nobleman grimly.

“What?” Cho Rip asks quietly, meaning to keep this between the two of them.

But the meteor catches don Soo’s eye at the nick of time.

“That,” he points.

Before Ji Sun can parry back with the food she went inside to get, Dong Soo scrambles out of his shawl, and signals Cho Rip to follow. He begins to dash towards the flickering light, Cho Rip and Mi So hot on his hails behind him.

When they reach the hilltop, the first thing that catches his attention is the heavy stench of oil permeating throughout the area. Mi So and Cho Rip crease their noses, while he simply inhales the fumes to better tally the exact type. Mi So ends up pointing in the direction of the stench, and they begin to tread downwards.

When he sees the rock, he calls for Cho Rip to come see. The debris and ash on it is no doubt gunpowder, and the best if Dong Soo is correct. He clenches the hilt of his sword as the other two look about in confusion.

“Now I know.” He gripes. “Every time the northeast wind is blowing. And why? Why the Northeast wind? It's because the meteors can fall only when the northeast wind blows. It's because it's manmade. They're not even meteors.”

It dawns upon the other two, Cho Rip the most. “I have to tell the others,” he nods grimly, his hand gripping Mi So's.

Dong Soo nods in agreement, tired but satisfied. “We need to report this. We have to call the trio in. Set a meeting with the prince.”

“Or you can keep your mouth shut and I'll promise not to kill her.” Says the intruder's voice.

By the time Dong Soo turns around to see who it is, Mi So's already limp in Cho Rip's arms. His eyes widen, but then relax when he realizes it's only a needle. And it's simply put her to sleep.

But that doesn't mean he's impressed.

“This is between you and me. Let them go.” He grinds out, his expression firm and calculating.

The Sky Lord- n  _Un-ah_ \- chuckles darkly. Dong Soo recalls that chuckle from when they were twelve. He’d only had the courtesy of hearing it once or twice, and usually when someone had managed to thoroughly anger the man.

_Un-ah._

“Let them go,” he repeats, his voice louder- firmer. “We can finish this on our own. Let them go.”

“It’s your own fault for bringing them along and telling them what you know,” the thinner and paler of the man says, finally appearing before their eyes.

“Cho Rip,” he calls. “Take her.”

“Dong Soo-ah!” His childhood friend calls, frantically. “Is she-“

“It’s only a needle,” he reassures him. He demonstrates by plucking it from her neck, and flicking it away. “It’s OK. Just go.”

“Dong Soo-ah,” Cho Rip repeats again, visibly frightened for his friend’s life.

But Dong Soo nods his head lightly. Then, a string of shurikens come flying towards Dong Soo, and he manages to catch them all before they plunge into Cho Rip and Mi So.

He flares his nostrils and throws them into different directions.

“Un-ah!” He yells angrily. “Let them go!”

But the man doesn’t listen and barges towards Dong Soo, his short swords out of their scabbards. He brandishes his own sword and the three blades clash violently against each other, setting off sparks into the air.

“Cho Rip, run!”

The smug smile touches Un-ah’s lips. “Foolish as always,” he tuts. “I told you to put that fake kindness away. It only leads to more misery.”

Then there’s a rough kick to his stomach, and he grunts as he feels one of his battered ribs take another hit. “Un-ah,” he manages to grit through his teeth, bits of blood caking the inside of his mouth.

Another kick comes towards him, but this time he uses his elbow to fend off the offending limb. The swords clash again, and again, and again. By the sixth time their blades clash and set off sparks, Cho Rip and Mi So are both gone from the hill. Relief washes over his face.

But in his moment of gratefulness, the assassin manages to kick his sword out of his hand. Dong Soo yelps when he feels one short sword claim the base of his neck, while the other find a place over his stomach. A thwack to his kneecap brings him down.

“Still as incompetent as ever. And to think that once in a blue moon, I actually thought you’d come to defeat me.”

Dong Soo face contorts in a brief shift of rage, but he simply clenches his eyes close.

The short swords are gone from his neck. Un-ah’s not in front of him anymore, and he feels his sword clatter at his feet. He places the blade back on his waist, and then he feels a pair of strong hands pull him up.

“Look at me when I speak to you, Baek Dong Soo.” He says, his voice as still and deadly as the calm before the storm. “I want to see the glint of failure in your eyes as I continue to embarrass you in front of the gods.”

When his eyes flutter open, they’re darkened. “Watch your mouth.” He warns. He feels this persona begin to break.

“Strike a nerve?” The other taunts.

Dong Soo takes another breath. “You should leave,” he bites back. “The royal soldiers will be here momentarily. You don’t want them to see you.”

The latter breaks into a smile, but again, this is a smile he hasn’t seen in a long time. A deadly, cruel smile. One that tells Dong Soo their time together tonight is long from over.

And then, a crack to his shoulder. Dong Soo collapses.

When he grasps the formerly injured shoulder, he’s surprised to see that there’s blood seeping through the old wound. The crack, he realizes, was a quick stab from a dagger a Sky Lord no doubt hid in his sleeve the entire time. Dong Soo tries to crane his neck, but the blinding pain causes him to falter. He's stabbed the wound, reopened it, and thoroughly undone his own good deeds.

Un-ah’s hands grab a fistful of his collar, and haul him up again.

“See that?” he jeers. “Another move of sheer incompetency. Don’t you see, Dong Soo? You never became the best swordsman of Joseon. You’ve simply become the disciple of an old man who was already dying. I’m the one who got better, stronger, wiser. You- you’ve only become dafter, more useless. You’re nothing but a harbinger of ill fate to the rest of them. You a  _nothing_.”

And that’s that, because the next second, Dong Soo’s knee is lodged in Yeo Woon’s groin. Pain flashes across his face, but he regains his composure.

But not in time. Dong Soo kicks him away, the sole of his feet hitting him in the middle of his chest. The man flies backwards and away from him. The soldiers will be here soon, he knows. Cho Rip won't let this go. He'll send the best he has at his disposal. The trio might even show up. No doubt Sa Mo and Jin Ju's father would also find themselves in the crowd as well.

_If I don't lure him away, they'll find him._

The thinner of the two is back on his feet within seconds. But by then, Dong Soo's already running down the hill .

_If they find him, they'll kill him._

But he knows he's lying to himself.

_If they catch him, he'll ki **them**._

But he doesn't get far. By the time he's down the hill and into the forest, the Sky Lord is ahead of him. Not far enough, he breathes. If the soldiers have a captain, no doubt they'll split up and search for them in groups. He has to keep moving.

And he does. He stumbles through the dense forests, tripping over roots and vines and stones. He manages to dirty his clothes even more, his thighs burning from the walking and the running. His ribs don't feel any better and the bruise on his cheek feels as if it's flaring to life.

But he keeps going. Keeps going until he's so far into the forest that he can't tell right from left. His head spins and he holds himself against a tree trunk while catching his breath.

_If I fall over here, will Un-ah catch me?_

Because he knows the latter is watching him. Trailing him. Following him from above, moving silently from branch to branch, his steely eyes never leaving Dong Soo.

When he finally finds himself in front of a barn, he collapses on his knees. Taking deep, harsh breaths, he calculates that this should be far enough. Even though he hasn't a clue where he is and whether or not the barn is occupied, he's just glad that he's brought Un-ah away from the impending mob. He manages to pick himself up and stagger inside.

“Why don't you just listen?” It's the same voice from before, but no longer as harsh. No longer laced with killer intent. “Why don't you ever listen?” He stresses from behind as Dong Soo wearily looks about his new surroundings. “No matter what I say, do, or threaten you with- y  _never_  sten. Are you deaf, Baek Dong Soo, or just heartless? Have you no concern for what others say, even when they're in your best interest?”

Dong Soo uses a pillar in the barn to help him stabilize himself. “Tell me why I should listen to you.” He replies harshly.

He hears the light crunch of hay underneath the soles of perfectly tailored boots. He knows the man is only a few feet behind him now.

“Three years in the mountains. A waste of time if you have yet to grasp the difference between well wishers and hell bringers.” He chastises.

“You'll have to excuse me for thinking you actually had my best interests at heart.” He replies sarcastically, though exhausted to the bone. He's surprised he's still standing. “It may have slipped my mind when you decided to stab me in the same shoulder you helped heal.”

“Perhaps I should have dug my dagger in deeper, just to elicit a clearer response.” The latter responds, with an equal amount of sarcasm.

“Your mood swings are still alive and well,” he says with grave annoyance. “One minute you're trying to kill me, the next you decide to lecture me, and now you're threatening bodily harm again.”

_Make up your mind. Kill me, or come home with me._

He silently pleads, though he keeps the brave face intact.

The other chuckles lightly behind him.

“I liked it better when you laughed with your heart.” Dong Soo continues. His tone softens. “Has being the king of assassins killed every last bit of that part of you? Or did you leave him in the past and assume this identity for the sake of the position of Sky Lord?”

If Un-ah prides himself in calculting all his vices, then Dong Soo prides himself in knowing all of his choices.

“Brave words for a man who just stumbled through the forest for the past hour without an inch of a clue about where he was going.”

“You could have easily taken me down with one of your daggers from above. What does that say about you?” He clips back. “An assassin is supposed to kill and disappear without a trace. Am I prey to you then, Un-ah? Nothing but a dog to hunt down and kill? Am I n  _worthy_  ough to be a target of your guild? Or do you simply take pleasure in watching people frantically stumble about?”

“Baek Dong Soo!”

Strike one.

“What?” He replies scathingly. “What do you expect met to think? Either kill me, or come home with me. That's all there is to it. Don't flounder about me and then expect me  _not_  something about it. I went to the minister's house for my own purposes, purposes that had nothing to do wi  _you_. But you threw me to the ground and beat me becau  _you_  ought it was appropriate. Then you meddle into my affairs when I've clearly made myself scarce from your presence. If Hong Dae Jo wishes me dead, then kill me, like you're supposed to. Don't tell me what to or not to do. Don't lecture me- not unless you still care for me.”

The little speech leaves him breathless.

_Jin Ju, if you were here, would you agree?_

“As incoherent as that muddled brain of yours,” he replies, voice dripping with malice. “No form, no function. Start making some sense, Baek Dong Soo, and maybe I'll start taking you seriously.”

He can't help but let out a disappointed laugh. “You don'  _have_  start taking me seriously. I don't need you to start taking me seriously. Not- not like I did before.”

_I'm lying, Un-ah. I hope you know this._

“You're useless, Baek Dong Soo. If anyone were to take you seriously, it would be the end of their hard earned reputation.”

_Now, you're lying._

“Then why are you still here? Leave.” He finishes, his hand ghosting up to his injured shoulder, the blood instantly caking his palm and fingers. His tone drops threateningly low. “I'm nothing to you now, yes?” He whispers. “Then why are you still here? If I'm as useless as you claim and clearly not a target, then why waste your time on me? I can't run anymore, so there's no show left to entertain you now, if that's what you initially hoped for. So why, Un-ah? Why are you still here?”

_Do you want me to save you? No matter- I'll save you regardless._

He doesn't answer, and a smile finally begins to creep onto his face. A genuine, breathy smile.

“You still care.” He concludes absently. “You still care. Well wishers and hell bringers- isn't that what you said?”

Strike two.

The Sky Lord glides in front of him. They're three feet away from each other now, face to face.

“Needless words, Baek Dong Soo.” The latter cuts through.

“If this-” -Dong Soo takes a much needed breath- “If this is how you show you care for me, by beating me, teaching me, throwing me across fields and telling me how useless I am-”

Un-ah clenches his fists.

“-then I'm fine with that. Chase me for as long as you want,” he says sincerely, even though the look of disappointment and displeasure remains. “Kick me, spit on me, hate me- but don't ever think I'll just let you go.”

_Because I won't._

“If this is how you show that you care, then so be it. I can accept that- but it's only fair you understand that I'm doing the same for you. For the rest of my days, I swear, I will jump in front every blade you wish to destroy someone with. I will let you destroy me before I let you destroy yourself. If kicking me helps you drop those swords, then so be it. If telling me I'm nothing to you helps you sleep at night, then say it. Say it again, Un-ah.”

_Say it again._

“But I will never give up. I will never give up on you. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”

Strike three, because the Sky Lord brandishes one of his short swords.

“Baek Dong Soo!”

Dong Soo, in response to his action, brandishes his own before throwing it on the floor and kicking it away.“I won't stop pursuing Hong Dae Jo's plans. I won't stop until everything comes to light and he pays for his wrongdoings. And I swear-”

_I swear._

“-I swear, whatever it is that keeps you by his side and makes you move to his every whim- I will destroy it. I will free you, Un-ah. Then, we can go home.”

“You fool!” The latter bellows.

_Then it is me._

“Then it's me,” he surmises, his assumptions becoming the truth. Hong Dae  **did**  nt him dead- but Un-ah couldn't do it.

_He can't do it._

Un-ah cares. He's always cared. Dong Soo's heart flutters the slightest bit. But then it dawns upon Dong Soo about why Jin Ju's no longer around the hovel. And why Un-ah is what he is.

_You failed them._

“I can save you, Un-ah.” He says firmly.

_But you can't. You couldn't do it when you were kids, and you couldn't do it three years ago. Every time, it ended with you on the ground and him on the battlefield. Jin Ju almost died because you weren't there. Jin Ju lost her mother and her father, Un-ah lost his sanity. You're always too late._

“I- I have to save you.”

_If I don't, then what right do I have to live? If I can't save one best friend and can't bring another back home, what right do I even have to breathe?_

“Baek. Dong. Soo.” The Sky Lord enunciates with a deathly calm, his eyes reddening

“I can save you.” He repeats.

_Let me save you._

“No form no function- that's what you said.” He continues. “I know I have neither, but I try. You know I try. So please, let me help you. Come back with me tonight,” he pleads. “Come back, and we can speak to Cho Rip and Sa Mo about this. You can take a bath, eat something, sleep in my room. I'll find a spot outside, I swear, but just-”

“BAEK DONG SOO!”

The sound of his voice is deafening.

“You useless waste of space.” The latter whispers, disgust lacing every syllable. “You swear to protect all those around you. Now you beg for me to come with you. Me- the one who's sworn to destroy you.” He breathes before finishing. “This is why you've always failed- because your train of thought is harried. You have no set goal in mind, even though you claim you do. You say you want to protect those around you, yet you want to save me. You cannot have both.”

“I can try,” he replies grimly.

“And you will fail, like you always do.”

_Like I always have. But I will still try. Will you kill me if I try, Un-ah?_

“I will try nonetheless.”

A heavy gust of wind shakes the barn door closed and the torches flicker dangerously. Two men stand in front of each other, face to face, each with a different goal in mind.

_Would you kill me if I tried, Un-ah?_

He thinks yes.

_I will die then._

He thinks yes. He takes a deep breath and feels the puncture needles beneath his dirtied cloth.

_If I die, will you save him, Jin Ju? Or will you stay away, hidden in your own shadows- the shadows I should have strived to shed light upon?_

Un-ah begins to shake with rage.

_I will die._

He swears he can feel the moon flicker.

_I'm sorry._


	6. Chapter 6

**Jin Ju**  
  
When she’s out of the gambling house, she quickly makes her way behind some trees and changes into her everyday clothes. A pair of canvas pants, pink robes, and a rough pair of shoes. She digs underneath the mound of dirt below her, and produces her new bow and quiver of arrows. Slinging the weapon on to her back, she saunters out of the greenery and makes her way back to the path- the disguise neatly bundled in a cloth, her sword pressed snugly to her hip.  
  
She hears someone coming towards her and immediately tenses up, her hand automatically hovering over her sword. But it’s only a pair of children, holding hands and eating from the same paper cone filled with peanuts. She crinkles her nose distastefully as she sees them ambling towards the darker and less habitable area of the village. Before the boy and girl can leave her sight, she grasps one of them by the collar and holds her back, the other one halting with her. She presses six coins into her hands and points at the inn ahead. Without another word, they bow and run off.  
  
Without wasting another second, she herself makes her way into the sane the darkened alley. It’ll lead her into the dirt path that goes through the forest and into the plains. Fine for rogues like her. Not fine for a pair of children who still munched on peanuts at one in the morning.  
  
She scratches her head and tiredly makes her way down the unframed ground beneath. But she can’t go home yet. She needs to thoroughly tire herself out before she collapses onto her futon at the inn. Her thighs need a workout, and only a cold run through the plains will help her sleep tonight. She knows it’s late, but the stableboy has already given her the keys to open the lock. She’s grateful he trusts her with his livelihood, but she assumes it’s also because she can provide him with unlimited meat from her hunts.  
  
And the fact that he’s only fourteen, and seemingly blushes whenever she manages to help him muck out the stables and help groom the horses. She chuckles lightly and promises to get him something nice for offering her this kind of gentleness. Horses didn’t come cheap, but she guesses that if she were ever to sincerely ask to keep the creature, he would gladly comply. That kind of acknowledgement, that kind of kindness- these are miracles to her.  
  
 _Light brown eyes._  
  
He’d been the gruff kind of gentle, but gentle nonetheless. And he acknowledged her presence, her sense of self. And he cooked for her, fed her- took care of her. Not too many watched over while she was growing up, save her adoptive father. And her mother only recently came into her life.  
  
 _And went away just as fast._  
  
And she wonders how things could have been had she been the Ajusshi’s daughter in reality, and if her mother had raised her instead of giving her away. Would her weapon of choice today be the marbles her mother used?  
  
 _Or would it be the broad sword the Ajusshi carried?_  
  
Would she have thieved like she did now, randomly ransacking merchant camps she knew that carried slaves that were illegally brought in?  
  
 _Or would I be proper- like the samini?_  
  
Would she still love horses? Still love the cold wind brushing against her face, her long brown hair trailing behind her like a banner?  
  
 _Or would it be in a topknot, like the Ajusshi?_  
  
She wonders if anything else would change.  
  
 _Would I still be in love with Baek Dong Soo?_  
  
The final thought makes her stumble over her own feet and send her tumbling to the ground. Her knee scrapes against a protruding root when she uses her palms to stop from falling face first. Kneeling on the ground, she breathes heavily and thinks about how… relieving it would be should she never had laid eyes on the swordsman.  
  
 _If I grew up with them, I would never have been with Father. Then Father would have never taken me to Sa Mo’s. I would never have played with them; I would have never kissed him._  
  
But then she thinks, would that have made any difference? Wouldn’t they still have to meet in the future, when she could have been wearing the same flowing robes like her mother, her hair tied in the topknot like the Ajusshi, marbles in her pocket and a broad sword in her grip?  
  
 _Wouldn’t Baek Dong Soo be the same?_  
  
No. Because bamboo shoots would still hinder him from all his dreams, had the fire never occurred. His dreams of protecting the ones around him, his dreams of becoming the best- the greatest. The warrior, Baek Dong Soo. Not the cripple.  
  
 _But Woonie._  
  
Woonie would eventually have found a way, she idealizes. Because she knows, nothing she has done for Baek Dong Soo will ever match the amount he has done for the brown haired man. There was never a competition. Jin Ju was just lucky enough to help push the process along. If circumstances could help Baek Dong Soo with her in mind, then circumstances could easily replace her with Woonie.  
  
And that brings her back to her initial thoughts. Baek Dong Soo would eventually grow up to be what he is today, and perhaps Woonie would still betray him, or perhaps not. Then the only variable in the story would be her. She would be the only change, but her change wouldn’t matter as much.  
  
 _Because Woonie will always be there. Even when he’s dead, he’ll be right there._  
  
So, would she still fall in love with him? Fall in love with Joseon’s best swordsman? The apple of everyone’s eye? Would he begin to haunt her every step, like her mother's memory did to her birth father?  
  
Would I be like Omma? Cold and harsh on the outside, but gentle on the inside?  
  
Or like the Ajusshi?  
  
 _Gruff and broody, but terribly kind nonetheless?_  
  
Or would that even matter? When she’s up and brushing her palms and knees of the dirt, the ridiculousness of her hypothetical situations dawns upon her.  
  
 _It wouldn’t matter._  
  
She continues to amble through the forest, a rueful smile marring her pale skin.  
  
 _In this lifetime, and the next._  
  
She skips over a few rocks and crosses a bridge. Droplets of rain begin to fall, and she thinks that maybe, somewhere far off, a rain god is showering her with gifts for the afterlife.  
  
 _In the one before, and the ones that are yet to come._  
  
She can see the stable now, about a mile up ahead, the moon illuminating her line of vision, the pecks of water dressing a sheen of moisture onto her face.  
  
 _It’ll always be you._  
  
She knows there’s no point in thinking otherwise. The person who showed her the least affection, yet the greatest amount of gratefulness would always be the one. Today, tomorrow, when she wakes up tomorrow afternoon at the inn.  
  
 _Baek Dong Soo._  
  
She wishes she can forget him, sometimes, but she knows that it’s impossible. His presence in her heart pains her, but it reminds her- reminds her that out of them all, he has the worst. Being born an orphan before she became one, being born crippled, being underestimated all his life. Yet he managed to rise and conquer- his people, his loved ones, and soon enough, her heart.  
  
And he doesn't need her pity, or her presence. He has better things to do than worry about her. She can only hope that Woonie can aid him in his vetures as time goes by.  
  
By then she knows that she’s made a mistake. She sighs. When the arrow whizzes past her ear, she wishes that she could reminisce about him when she's on the horse. Her negligence would probably cost her, her life now.  
  
 _Bandits._  
  
Or maybe a pair of rapists- patrolmen who couldn’t afford the giasengs.  
  
She shakes off her quivers and bow, and quickly exposes her sword into the cold and wet night. The lighting of the moon eerily glints of the blade she’s polished a hundred times over, the clouds beginning to dusk over. The blade that hadn’t drawn blood tonight at the gambling house, but would right here, right now- in front of the stables where her horse patiently awaits her.  
  
 _I'm sorry._

**_***_ **

**Jin Ju**

When the next arrow comes for her, she deflects it with a quick slash of her sword. Then the arrows cease, and a barrage of smaller, more agile weaponry begin to fly towards her from every direction. The first six or seven shuriken she’s able to duck. The next ten or so are easily countered by her sword. One manages to scathe her pink robe and rib the fabric at her arm, but it doesn’t draw any blood.

She can feel the rain taunting her, picking up its speed.

Then eight men emerge from the shadows. Three rise from the water in the stream, two drop down from the trees, and the remaining few slither out from under the shrubbery she should have kept an eye on when she was crossing the bridge. They’re all dressed in black, red, and blue. The cloth over their face covers everything but their eyes. It’s the familiar red lining on the sash of their robes and at the sleeves of their garb that ends up causing her to lose her breath in the end.

_Heuksa Chorong._

Panic sets in when she realizes that they aren’t finished when all eight release their swords from their confinement at the same time.

_Woonie._

She feels literal sparks fly when her sword clashes against the first. Before she knows it, he has a foot to her chest, and instantly kicks her back. Though she falls back, the sword doesn’t leave her hand. Then another grabs a fistful of her hair and flings her up, and this time, the sword does shake out of her hands. She feels a harsh crack to her face.

The backhand brings blood into her mouth, and she feels a tooth wiggle under her tongue. The pain is nothing compared to the rage that begins to bubble underneath her skin.

_Woonie._

When the two lunge towards her again, she rolls away, and takes hold of her sword again. She stands in formation this time, her mind no longer dwelling on her love for the swordsman.

_You bastard._

She doesn’t remember being so strong, because the next thing she knows, she’s elbowing one of the high flying assassins and then plunging her sword into his shoulder. The man doesn’t utter a sound but she feels the pain flash in his eyes before he kicks her in the stomach and yanks the blade out.

But her grip on the hilt is deadly. As deadly as the time day realized that both her mother and father were dead and gone. As deadly as the day when she ransacked the merchant camp and cut through the front lines, wracked with hatred and grief. The day when she realized Baek Dong Soo was leaving again for some time- the day when her heart decided she too would leave and disappear because there was nothing left for her in this village, in this city.

So when the other two come for her from behind, she spins her leg around in a swing, tripping one, while the other manages to jump in time. She kicks the fallen one in the groin, and pierces the bloodied blade into the side of his stomach, away from the vital organs. It’s enough to make him shudder, but not enough to keep him down. He roughly kicks her in the ribs and sends her curving away, the sword still lodged inside of him.

Two injured only lightly, one still active, and the remaining five standing silently by the stream bank, the flickering moonlight glinting off their clean cut blades. She’ll never be able to finish them all off. Not in this life time.

She manages to grab her bow and quiver of arrows and sling an arrow into place by the time the kunai fly towards her. Three lodge themselves into various parts of her body, but her arms and shoulder remain untouched. That’s enough luck from the gods tonight, she decides, and she releases the first one.

It flies out of sight. For a few seconds, there’s a feeling of confusion in the air.

She smiles broadly with bloodied teeth when the vine she’s pierced finally gives in and collapses, crushing two of the five assassins that flanked on the outside of the ambush. The active assassin disregards the event, and lunges towards her again, but this time, four arrows fling themselves towards the man. Two he catches, but one lodges itself in his throat and the other in his leg.

Three dead, two injured, three still standing silently where they were a minute ago, not a bit fazed by the fact that she’d only just caused a log to crush two and hailed arrows at another.

The two that she was able to stab with her sword are no longer in sight. But then a hand grips her ankle and knocks her ff her balance, causing her to fall to the ground. She feels the gruff hand begin to drag her across the moistened earth, leaving the bow and quiver to jut off her person and lay limply away from her.

_I'm going to die._

She wants to leave- see the world. She wants to see if she can train in the mountains and hone her skills to the point where she too could hear an enemy coming from a mile away. She wants to see if she can find people who will tell her more about her mother- tell her more about her father. Tell her more about the Ajusshi who died protecting her. She wants to gather information and build a small shrine for them by the sea. She wants to pay tribute to them and learn how to properly become a swordswoman in their honor. She doesn't have a destiny like the other two, so she strives to make her own. She then wants to come back afterwards, hug her father, and take him away from all the miseries of being a fugitive. She wants to tell Baek Dong Soo that everything is fine. She wants to tell him it's OK that he never loved her the way she loved him.

_I can never make them proud._

But she'll see Omma, and Father, and the Ajusshi at least. She wonders if they're waiting at the gates of the Underworld, ready to welcome her with open arms. She wonders if it's their blessings that've kept her alive this long.

_I wish I could see them one last time._

Father, Sa Mo, the samini she'd sworn to protect, Mi So, the ajumma.

_Baek Dong Soo._

She hope her mother is watching, because this is her last chance to prove herself.

_Wait for me._

Then she digs into her pocket and produces three, shiny black marbles. With wet fingers and one last breath, she flicks all three at the two offenders, just like the way her mother showed her that one and only time.

One black pearl lodges in one of the assassin's throat, the other two into the second's eyes. They both crumble to the ground.

Thunder claps. She yanks the kunai out of her body.

She shakily turns around to see that the remaining three have put away their swords. But they're no longer standing in place by the stream anymore. They're gaining towards her, and she frantically fishes through her pocket to take out the few remaining marbles. She flicks them as well, aiming for pressure points, but the assassins fling them away with the backs of their elbows. One even catches one aimed at his head, and Jin Ju decides that this is the best she could do.

She latches onto a tree trunk to help her up and leans back against it, breathing erratically. She thinks about her life, her choices.

_If I make it out of this alive, I'll go home._

She'll return and do everything she's deprived herself of. She'll tell the samini that she doesn't hate her; she'll tell her father that she was his daughter and no one else's. She'd build that shrine some day, pray every other weekend, and take up her bow and sword in the name of justice. She'd ransack more merchant camps and help free more illegal slaves. She'd hunt Woonie down herself and confront him for doing the things he did.

_I'll kiss Baek Dong Soo. I'll tell him I love him. I'll fight for him._

She'd fight, she decides. If she lives, she'll fight. If there's nothing left for her here, she'l  _make_ omething for herself. She scrunches her eyes closed and thinks how it would feel to embrace the ones she loves. She clenches her fists and waits for the finishing stab to come.

_If I live, I'll go home tomorrow morning and tackle Father to the ground. I'll let him hit me over the head with a spoon. I'll let Mi So yell at me, Ji Sun chastise me, and Sa Mo tell me how daft I really am. I'll let them hug me, and I'll hug them back. Then I'll steal Dong Soo away from his duties and take him for a ride on my horse. Then, then I'll tell him I love him- and then I'll fight for him._

The scenario brings a bloody smile to her lips. She would at least die with memories of them as her final thoughts. But when the stab doesn't come, her eyes flutter open in confusion.

And she finds the last three assassins all kneeling at her feet, their heads bowed deeply under the rain. Their swords are free from their scabbards and lying in front of them. The mark of Heuksa Chorong emblazons the middle part of every blade, the symbol as clear and beautiful as the first time she laid eyes on it.

Then the three raise their heads and relieve themselves of their cloth bandannas. They come away to reveal two young men, both younger than her, and one old, firm ajusshi who couldn't be less than fifty. The younger ones stand up straight, and then flicker away, leaving the ajusshi looks up to her with determination.

His piercing green eyes bore into her brown ones, and suddenly, she's never been more afraid.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

He stabs the ground with the short sword, allowing the metal to plunge deep into the earth beneath the hay. His hand continues to grip the hilt, his arm shaking. Hatred graces his once delicate features, his eyes dancing with the flames of murderous rage he's tried so very hard to suppress.

But Baek Dong Soo manages to ruin everything. Every effort, every change, every promise- everything of his crumbles whenever he's in his vicinity. The farther away they are from each other, he's learned, the better for both of them. But Baek Dong Soo always manages to lure him back.

Always.

“Un-ah,” the latter calls. The other man's sword lays strewn across the empty barn floor, and his expression, which once conveyed a look of distaste and disappointment, now harbors great concern.

“Un-ah, stop,” the man calls, a crack in his voice. “I can save you, Un-ah  _Let me save you_.”

He clenches his teeth to keep from saying things he knows he doesn't mean. But this man- thi  _being_ \- manages to bring out the worst in him. No amount of hatred for his father has ever brought out the amount of brutality and bitterness Dong Soo has. And that's just by existing.

Only by existing did this man become the ruin of the Sky Lord.

“Leave,” he hisses through his blood caked teeth, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. “Leave now, before I end you once and for all,” he threatens.

The other's features harden ever so slightly, and Yeo Woon knows that the man is currently feeling the tips of the acupuncture needles he intends to use.

“I can't do that,” the latter answers politely. “I can't leave you here. If I go- you're coming with me.”

Yeo Woon knows the words are sincere, and he knows that the needles are coming for his neck in less than twelve seconds.

“You're pitiful.”

And the needles fly towards him, while the swordsman swiftly garners his weapon once more. But the needles never hit and the short sword stuck in the ground remains that way, but Yeo Woon is gone. When Dong Soo shifts the slightest bit at the surprise disappearance, he lunges down from the bars above and sticks the other man's needles right into his neck. Dong Soo lets out a surprised yelp before dropping his sword and keeling over like a sack of potatoes. The Sky Lord catches him in his embrace as a clap of thunder roars outside.

“I could kill you.” He growls into his ear, the man's back pressed firmly to his front, his head limp against his chest.

“But you won't. You care about me far too much to finish me like this.” He whispers, moisture collecting at the corners of of his eyes. “But do it anyway. Please. If I can't save you, then I have to kill you. I- I can't kill you. I'd rather die than ever harm you.” He finishes weakly, closing his eyes as the tears begin to leak from beneath his eye lids. “I've failed Jin Ju, I've failed you. You- you were right. I am a failure.”

The request sends another surge of fury through his body. Kicking away Dong Soo's sword, he then roughly shoves the immobilized man into the hay. They're facing each other now, Dong Soo still unable to move everything but his eyes and his mouth. Yeo Woon quivers as he looks down.

_You. You've ruined me._

The reddened eyes flutter open and beads of clear moisture continue to trickle down the side of his face. And the resonant brown orbs look up to him with shades of affection, understanding, forgiveness...

_Forgiveness._

He curtly grabs his face, and pulls it up and closer to his own. Their noses skim against each other, and the pit of Yeo Woon's stomach hardens as he feels himself get closer and closer the edge.

“You.” He recites hatefully. “ _You._ ”

The darker skinned man gently smiles, closes and opens his eyes again as to ensure him that it's OK. It's all OK. Nothing is wrong with this, he hears in the air. Dong Soo wants him to shove his hand into his chest and rip his heart out. Because Dong Soo cannot live his life knowing that he's going to have to kill his best friend because his heart is just that pure. Dong Soo accepts death, the Sky Lord sees. He embraces it.

_For me._

“Un... ah?” He asks tiredly. “Yeo... Un-ah.” He tries again.

“I hate you so much.” He hisses through his teeth, his hands tightening over Dong Soo's face, his thumbs digging into Dong Soo's bruised and spat on cheeks while his nails begin to mar the skin on his neck and spring forth blood. “I hate yo  _so much_.” The needles on Dong Soo's neck, if pressured any farther, will kill him. The Sky Lord silently contemplates on his life and his choices while focusing into the other man's eyes.

“It's OK,” Dong Soo reassures. “It's OK.”

Then the hands let the head fall limply against the hay, and needles are gone and flying across the barn, instantly embedding themselves into the barn door. Dong Soo twitches ever so slightly and proceeds to get up, only to have Yeo Woon's calloused hands slam him forcefully into the ground again.

And he can't stop. He won't stop.

_If you can't learn to hate me on your own, I'll teach you myself._

On impulse, he ruthlessly attacks his lips, shoving his tongue down his throat before he can protest. The warm cavern tastes of blood. He deepens the kiss, hungry for whatever else the small mouth has to offer. When the tongue lashes back, he viciously bites down on one of his lips, instantly ending the battle.

He grasps one wrist and twists it, the other pinned to the ground with the small shurikens he manages to produce in time. He feels twisted arm struggle feebly against his hold, but he puts it down with one needle of his own soon enough.

_You will hate me._

He lets go of the lips, and spits out the blood he's managed to acquire. When he looks upon Dong Soo's face now, he sees an expression he's been waiting to see ever since the latter left for the mountains with the Sword Saint.

_Fear. You will fear me._

He tears open his dark blue robes, streaked with black and gray, with one hand. The underclothes beneath is as easily ripped as well. His eyes glisten with a distant feeling savagery- the same savagery he'd managed to release when he killed his father

“Un-ah.” He hears in a distant, far away land. “Un-ah!”

But all he sees is a body beneath him. A body he should have cut to pieces when he had the chance but never did. A body he's desired for over a decade.

A body he's wanted to bury himself inside since the day he realized that it belonged to someone who was more than just a bumbling idiot. A soft, supple body with skin the color of oak. Marred with bruises, cuts, and a myriad of other lacerations- all pink and brown, like faded paintings. A body still young, naive, untouched by everything other than swords, sticks, and paint.

But _t's not just a body_.

He struggles with the urge to simply rip the beauty beneath him to shreds with his nails, suffocate the life out of him, and then proceed to hack him to pieces and forget he's ever had any effect on him. He wants to destroy him like he destroyed his father.

_So I can spend the rest of my days quietly killing myself._

No, it's not just a body. It's not a body at all. It's a person. This is Dong Soo- Dong Soo who's haunted his dreams, his memories, his waking hours everyday for the past twelve years. Dong Soo, whom he used to sleep next to when he was a child. Dong Soo, whom he'd allow to curl up against him when the nights became too cold and the fire couldn't keep going. Dong Soo with his beautiful, brown eyes and his dark brown tresses and his light brown skin. His perfection, his soul- his everything.

Everything.

The only one he wants to see when he wakes up in the morning, the only one he wants to gently lay down on his bed. The only one he wants his hands to touch, caress, and roam all over. The only person he wants to bury himself inside, over and over again until he's out of breath and the man beneath him is holding on to him for dear life and telling him nothing is wrong and everything is right.

He wants to untie the cloth that keeps his hair in place, run his hands through the wavy locks and inhale their scent as he moves inside of him again. He wants to kiss the spot behind his neck, the place where his blade cut through hours earlier, and tell him he's sorry. He wants to hold onto his hips and graze his lips over the hundreds of tiny blemishes adorning his back as he strains to find heaven inside of him.

The only one who possesses the chest he wants to lay down on afterwards, and silently stroke the permanent patches of pockmarked skin beneath while listening to his brown haired beauty's heartbeat. The only one he wants to whisper sweet nothings to afterwards- tease him a little bit, and then take him again, while whispering in his ear that he is Yeo Woon's everything- that he is Yeo Woon's heaven. The only one he wants to make love to every night, for the rest of his life. The only one he truly wants to protect- the only one he truly strives to love.

“Un-ah!” he hears in the distance again.

But the rage is undefined. It's pure loathing for the man beneath. He didn't hate his father as much as he's come to hate Baek Dong Soo right now.

_My days, my dreams- everything. You've ruined me completely._

His other short sword, released from it's scabbard attached to his back, springs forth finally. He slashes the area above his left left nipple, drawing a pained cry and a stream of blood that begins to spread rapidly. Sweat, blood, and dirt intermingle to create a mixture worthy of any dying man. Before he can carve into his skin again, he looks into his eyes again. His beautiful, dark brown eyes, wide with trepidation. His bottom lip bleeds and quivers as it looks up at Yeo Woon, and suddenly he feels accomplished. Accomplished at the fact that he's finally managed to bring back the old Dong Soo- the old Dong Soo that feared him, and only him.

And there are tears still slipping down the side of his beaten and bleeding face. Tears mixed with sweat.

_Mixed with pain._

Yeo Woon bursts into laughter. It's nothing like the laughs he used to gush forward when they were younger. This is a cruel surge of amusement, laced with bitterness and hatred. The laugh he used to laugh when his father would beat him day after day, sometimes for hours without end.

And Dong Soo seems to understand. No, h  _doe_ understand, because he smiles back. Smiles back, as if nothing is wrong, the torn lips tearing themselves apart even more. It's as if _his is OK_. He isn't struggling with his bonds anymore either, Yeo Woon notes. Instead, he's letting weariness take over. The flesh, albeit harmlessly, generously continues to allow the sanguinious fluid to drape over the sides of his chest, thoroughly soaking the shredded cloth still half on his person. He's allowed his head to settle into the patches of hay beneath.

The Sky Lord finally holds the remaining short sword over the compliant man's arm, pinned to the ground with shurikens, the tip already glistening with his blood.

He's ready to cut off the same arm he once saved.

_You will never forgive me for this **Don't**  orgive me for this._

But he will, Yeo Woon knows. Baek Dong Soo will always forgive him. Even the kiss. The kiss he's always yearned for. He will forgive him for stealing his first kiss, stealing his arm, stealing his sanity. He will forgive him for everything.

He tightens his hold over the blade.

_You've ruined me._

Baek Dong Soo nods his head lightly, the smile on his lips weakening. Baek Dong Soo foresees death- not an existence without one arm.

_Why have you ruined me?_

Dong Soo seems to hear his inner thoughts, because an expression of sorrow creeps onto his face.

“I'm sorry.” The latter lips inaudibly.

And the tip comes barreling down-

Only to stop when his eyes catch something that instantly shatters something inside him.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

The sword's incised about half a centimeter into Baek Dong Soo's skin, but it's as if he never noticed. Yeo Woon lets the short sword clatter to the side.

He's no longer forcing his knees into the man's stomach. He's crawled off him and managed to find a place beside him. He begins eying curiously at the spectacle that was once beneath him, and the thing that stopped him from cleaving the latter's arm off.

He's brushing away pieces of the torn robe and undershirt and lightly feathering touches over the wound he reopened not too long ago. It's an ugly purple around the edges, bleeding profusely from the quick stab of the dagger he applied before.

“Un-ah,” he hears someone call weakly, but the Sky Lord is far too focused on the red, dark brown, and pink colors lathering the taught skin. He lets his fingers touch the bleeding gash, and when he brings his appendages up again, they're coated with the heavy crimson liquid.

There's another ripping sound, but Yeo Woon can't seem to care. He can't seem to take his eyes off thes  _scars_.

And then his gaze falls upon the very thing that first broke his concentration.

He can't help but touch the skin beneath the taller man's belly-button, right above the cord of his trousers. There's another scar, ugly and raw pink, three inches in length. Perhaps three or four months old. The bumps are deformed, almost as if stitched hastily and without proper medical attention. The skin is meshed together like minced meat, and disconcerting to gaze upon.

_It must have hurt._

And he's pushed back, seconds later, but not harshly enough to fall back. The body is suddenly no longer by his side, and he can't feel the scar beneath his fingers anymore.

_Someone hurt him while he was away._

It dawns upon him that there are marks on Dong Soo that aren't just from swords, sticks, and ink.

_A gutting knife._

Someone's tried to gut him. Not fight him like honorable men and women, but disembowel him like thieves and demons.

_Even the most honorable of men die the most dishonorable of deaths._

Hong Dae Jo's words echo in his ears like temple bells.

_Your **my** \- kind is usually the cause of it._

Someone's kneeling in front of him. The cloth is shredded and the blemished skin underneath is bare and bruised, caked with sweat and blood. The cut he's inflicted still seeps the red liquid, and in the short time that the body kneels in front of him, it manages to make it down to the scar beneath his belly-button, intensifying the ugliness of the entire thing.

He feels the guilt creep up his throat when he raises his head and sees that blood trickles down his clavicle as well, caused by the iron grip of his nails. Looking down again, the scar beneath the belly-button catches him in its focus. It stares into his soul, judging him. Judging his failures.

Hands are frantically shaking him, telling him to wake up, though the movements are weak. Then one comes up to his face, yelling at him, pleading with him. There's a crack in the voice, and then there's a soft crying.

“Wake up, Un-ah! Wake up!”

_They tried to kill you, even when you went away._

The realization doesn't hit hard enough, because his nails are now digging into his palms and drawing blood. His eyes are dead, the fury gone.

_I almost violated your scars. I almost gave you another one._

He remembers there's still the hidden dagger in the sleeve of his left arm- the one he used to reopen the shoulder wound. All he needs is one swipe, and his throat will be slit beyond repair, and Dong Soo will never have to worry about him again.

_I'm so sorry._

But then there's a warm body meekly embracing him, and lips as soft and wet as sea strewn pearls against his lips.

Yeo Woon blinks.

Dong Soo's arms are wrapped weakly around his hips and his tear stained eyes are closed. But Un-ah's are open, and they're staring.

Something else collapses inside him, and a light twitch of one of his enclosed fists tells his mind that he's broken out of his trance.

And Dong Soo's lips are still pressed against his. Not begging for entrance into his mouth. Not crushing for warmth. They're just there. Warm, bloodied, bruised. Tired. Just there, as if it's his last resort. His last resort to bring Yeo Woon back.

When Dong Soo brushes them off along with his hands, he's breathing heavily and salty streams of moisture are still rolling down his bruised cheeks. Baek Dong Soo's worried eyes are trying to find a spark of life in him, even though the spark in the latter's is beginning to fade.

And then, he does wake. Wakes for real. He doesn't want to be, but he is. His eyes widen the slightest bit as they gaze upon the heaving and bloody Dong Soo.

And Dong Soo finally sees the spark, and pulls him into an embrace again. He buries his head into the crook of the Sky Lord's shoulder, his sobs muffled by the rich cloth of his robes. The arms that reach around his shoulders shake with agony.

_Crying for me._

He let the fists break and allows his arms pull the man closer. His own tears began to drop quietly on Dong Soo's heaving back as he feels his blood soak through his front from the cuts he's inflicted on his chest.

_I love you._

And he will never cease. No matter what trial, what challenge, what death wish is hailed over his head next- he will never stop loving Baek Dong Soo. Not in this lifetime, not in the next. No matter how many times he's forced to try and kill the taller man, he won't. Because he can't.

He feels the sobbing man begin to hiccup, and then try and raise his head. But the blood loss and aches and pain can only be ignored for so long. His eyes roll back, and he promptly collapses in Yeo Woon's embrace.

He hooks an arm underneath his legs and carries the limp figure to a heavy pile of hay. There, he gently puts him down and begins to fully undress the upper half of his body, relieving him of the shreds of cloth.

He collects rain water in an empty feeding bowl and begins to wash away the blood, sweat, and debris from his heated skin. He begins to stitch and bandage the wounds he and the other soldiers have inflicted upon him in the past few hours. His shoulder, his neck, his arms, legs, chest, back, feet, He shudders at the bite of the needles Yeo Woon uses to stitch the lesions, and convulsions wrack throughout his body why the Sky Lord tries to strengthen the cloth around his broken ribs. But he falls back. Always falling back into a deep sleep.

_While you sleep, do you dream of me, Baek Dong Soo? Do you dream of me the way I dream of you?_

When he's finished, he takes off two layers of his official Heuksa Chorong robes. Turning them inside out, he then carefully dresses Baek Dong Soo in them, insulating him from the cold that begins to edge into the barn. He then lays down next to him, placing his arm underneath Dong Soo's head, pillowing it. The action causes the man to twitch and shift closer towards the warmth of Yeo Woon's body heat.

_Do you remember, Baek Dong Soo, of the nights when the fire went out and it was too cold to go out for wood? Do you remember crawling underneath my comforter and curling up next to me? Do you remember my arms encircling your waist, holding you close to my chest? Do you remember me kissing you softly behind the ear when I thought you were asleep?_

His head eventually lolls onto Yeo Woon's chest, and it doesn't take long for the Sky Lord to allow his one arm to encircle around Baek Dong Soo's shoulder.

_Do you remember the day you fell into the river when it was snowing outside? Do you remember how ill you became? How, for a week straight, you couldn't move an inch or open your eyes unless you had to cough? Do you remember me bathing you, feeding you, telling you that it was beautiful outside and that it just wasn't the same at camp without you making a fool of yourself? Do you remember how you once, in that one week, decided not to open your eyes for an entire day? Do you remember me crying for you to wake up?_

He listens to the steady breathing of his one, and only, beloved. He turns to look at him, watches the steady tremble of his lips as air escapes and enters. He moves tresses of dark brown away from his closed eyes. Then, without another thought, he pulls the cloth holding his hair in a disheveled bun. The fabric comes undone, and he flicks it away before running thin fingers through the damp, freed ringlets.

_Do you remember that fight we had the day before you turned seventeen? How you claimed that you only feared two things- losing your dignity, and losing your dignity to me. Then we fought for the seven hundred something time and you lost and then decided that night to cut some of my hair off as revenge for embarrassing you the day before your birthday. Do you remember how I caught you in the act, even though you were frozen in fear and weren't going to do it anyway, and **knew**  ou weren't? Do you remember how I yanked the knife from your hands and cut locks off from your head instead, as to teach you a lesson anyway? Do you remember, afterwards, how you wouldn't even look at me for a week, and didn't finish a sentence for three? Do you remember me dragging you outside late at night at the beginning of the fourth, and then cutting off six inches of my hair in front of you, before grabbing your collar and asking you if you were happy now?_

Dong Soo's fingers twitch, and Yeo Woon's hand places itself over his. The cold seeps through the rickety cracks like a snake would sneak through the forest. Dong Soo shudders and his eyes scrunch up in pain. The purple bruise on his cheek seems to deepen in color while the brown skin surrounding it becomes ashen. Yeo Woon's heart skips a beat.

He carefully picks up the head and lays it down on the hay, removing his arm. Then, he rids himself of yet another layer of cloth, and drapes it over the now shivering swordsman. He's got nothing left on but his trousers and his underclothes. He then goes searching through the barn for anything else that can keep the sleeping man warm.

He ends up finding dirty rags and musty sheets under a thatch of hay towards the back of the barn. He kicks the rags away, but airs out the sheets. Flinging the dirt and debris away, he then beats it with the back of his sword to chase away the remaining critters. When satisfied, he brings the sheets over to the other man. He folds one into a pillow, and billows the other three over his shivering form. When finished, he lays down beside him once more, his hands underneath his head and his own skin beginning to produce goosepimples. But no matter- he can see the color returning to Dong Soo's cheeks, and that in itself is warming enough.

“Un... ah.” The name escapes Dong Soo's lips, and instantly, Yeo Woon's ears prick up.

“Un... ah.” He whimpers again, and Yeo Woon catches the tear that escapes from beneath his eyelid with the tip of his index finger before it can dribble down the side of his face.

“Jin Ju-ah... Un-ah.”

_Do you dream of my well-being, Baek Dong Soo?_

He inches closer until Dong Soo's shoulder is pressed lightly against his chest. He wraps a protective arm around his chest.

_Do you dream of me, Baek Dong Soo?_

The whimpering stops and the man falls back into his entrenched sleep pattern again.

_You do. You do, Baek Dong Soo._

A silent tear escapes Yeo Woon's eye and lands on Dong Soo's shoulder- the same shoulder where he'd stabbed him mercilessly before.

_Forgive me, my love._

The rain outside silently weeps with him.

*******

**Jin Ju**

The peircing green eyes stay fixed on her as his hand goes into his robes. From there, he produces a small chest with Heuksa Chorong's symbol embellished on the top. Immediately afterwards, the two men return, carrying something between them along with a lantern and twelve other assassins without cloth covering their faces. The two holding the object take their place next to the ajusshi, their eyes plastered to the muddy ground beneath, the lantern placed by her feet. The other twelve file behind the first three and beckon their heads as well.

The click of the the ajusshi opening the small box brings her attention back to him. He holds it close enough for her to see. Twelve black marbles are lined up in four by three formation. With the flecks of the lantern light, she can see the flecks of sky blue and and earth red, swirling within the marbles as sheets of freezing cold rain hail down on her and the rest.

Jin Ju's eyes eyes widen.

The other two men follow suit and raise the other object they've brought in. But the heavy black cloth covering it isn't removed by the men. Their eyes remain on the ground. But the ajusshi's eyes don't leave her. The brilliant green eyes challenge her.

She lends her pale hand out and shakily pulls the heavy black drape off the object.

She recognizes the black markings of the sheath the second the cloth comes off. While one Young man holds the scabbard, the other holds the inky, smooth hilt and pulls out the blade that gleams like the moonlight that shimmered down before her not too long ago.

_The dead Ajusshi's blade._

They lay their objects at her feet at last and the ajusshi finally bows. Jin Ju stumbles, even though the tree trunk behind her holds her up. She can feel her tears mixing with the rain.

“All hail the Earth Lord.” The ajusshi says once.

_Omma?_

“All hail the Earth Lord.” The rest repeat in unison.

She wants to tell them they're wrong, that they've made a mistake. That she wasn't a lord, or part of the earth, or anything of that sort. She's a thief, a baseborn, a rogue.

But the garbed assassins seem to think otherwise. Soon, the petals of the purple flowers she saw at the underground garden at Heuksa Chorong begin fluttering towards her. There are more, and they're showering her in purple flowers as the sky showers her in rain. She scrunches her eyes closed as pain wracks throughout her person. She brings her hands to her face and she screams. Screams till her throat is raw and she's shaking like a madwoman. When she pulls them away and open her eyes again, they're all gone.

Except the sword and the box of marbles. She falls down to her knees and crawls over to the sheathed blade and the closed box. The words ring in her ears like a death wish come true.

_All hail the Earth Lord._

The rain weeps with her as she lets out one last scream towards the sky.


	7. Chapter 7

**Jin Ju**

She doesn’t sleep.

Curled up on her futon, bruised and defeated, she fearfully looks at the sword and the box she managed to haul into the room the night before. They sit in a corner far, far away from the futon, facing the ratty screen that filters broken rays of light into the near empty room. A broken sob escapes her lips.

She wants her father. She wants Mi So. And the samini, and Sa Mo, and the ajhumma. She wants to curl up underneath her covers at home and have her father lull her to sleep with an old folk tune. She wants to be fed by the saminis’s kind hands while she keeps hers occupied with wiping tears and snot off her face. She wants Sa Mo to scold her for running away.

She wants Dong Soo to hold her close and tell her she’s safe.

At the last thought, another string of cries come forth. Her ribs begin aching as she shivers violently on the sheets, spurts of blood leaking into the already filthy sheets. No warmth, no glory, no light.

_No love._

She coughs and sneezes, holds herself close as the cold begins to pump throughout her body even though the room is warm from the sun. When she finally feels herself begin to drift off, she feels a pair of whithered hands clasp her bruised ankle.

She instantly pulls it out of the grip and crawls to the other corner. She doesn’t turn around until she has her bow and a stray arrow pointing at the perpetrator.

A pair of electric green eyes set on an aged and wane face look back at her solemnly.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

He watches from the tree as the horse takes the injured man garbed in his robes back to the village. He doesn’t dare come down until the sound of its hooves is no longer audible and not a speck of its visage remains in his line of sight. Then, he jumps down.

And promptly collapses to his knees. If it wasn’t for the tree trunk, he would have no doubt face planted into the moist earth below and knocked himself unconscious. He steadies his disheveled form and takes deep breaths. Not long after, he manages to get his breathing under control and gradually begins to make his way back to Heuksa Chorong.

Baek Dong Soo still refuses to leave his memories.

Waking up at the crack of dawn, he knew he would have to find a way to send the man back home. At first, he decided he could simply carry him to the nearest clearing and whistle for one of his numerous messenger hawks encircling the forest and the nearby village. He’d tie the message around its foot, and send it to Gu Hyang, hope she got it in time, and then lightly caress Dong Soo’s cheek while he slept. But then it came to his attention that a fever was pulsating throughout his body and that if he even tried to carry the man, he’s probably keel over and crack his skull along with Dong Soo’s.

So he took the chance and went off to get a horse from the nearest farm.

The farm he ended up at was the same one Jin Ju sauntered around. For a while, he even contemplated bringing her along so Dong Soo could have someone to help him when he woke up, but when he showed up, the stableboy tearfully told him that she never came the night before. Nor did she show up in the morning to help him muck out the stables. Had it been any other person on the line, Yeo Woon would have bolted and gone to find the woman.

But this was Dong Soo. He quietly thanked the stableboy and handed him a pouch of coins before taking the horse and riding it back to the secluded barn. He silently apologized to the woman, wherever she was, though a nagging voice behind his thoughts told him he knew exactly what had happened to her.

He tries not to think about it now, even though he knows it’s something he has to deal with eventually.

And yet, even in the midst of the quiet anxiety building up in his chest and the heat of the fever permeating throughout his body, he smiles lightly at the thought of Dong Soo being in his arms the night before. Dong Soo warm his robes, his arm splayed protectively over Dong Soo’s chest, Dong Soo’s chest snuggling up against his shoulder.

_Just like when we were kids._

Just like when they were kids.

When he topples over, he doesn’t feel the firm arms band around his waist and catch him. He only feels Dong Soo’s heartbeat against his when they embraced each other in tears the night before.

He feels loved.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

When he wakes up again, he knows he’s back where he belongs. Knowing that, any expression of happiness quietly evaporates, and his lips press into a thin, firm line.

Gu Hyang gently presses the cloth against his forehead regardless.

After rising and pressing himself against the pillows, he sees that she’s not alone in the room with him. In fact, he’s not even in a bedroom, per say. It’s the throne room. He lies is a bed the assassins no doubt have moved in from one of the other rooms. The bright light filters through the embroidered screens in front of the windows, emblazoning the symbols of the centuries old guild. It’s an ethereal scene.

But it’s also quite deadly. Every corner has an assassin with an expression of blank solitude. The second floor easily dons a set of a hundred soldiers filed intricately along its banks. Another hundred line up behind Gu Hyang, while the rest filter out through the exit and no doubt into the courtyard.

He knows it’s happened.

“They were gone before I returned.” Gu Hyang explains in a solemn tone, helping him sip the water from the little bowl. “Two hundred assassins. They’ve taken the former Lady’s precious set and Lord Cheon’s broad sword.”

_She didn’t come to the stables this morning._

“Are there any tailing them?” He clips shortly, a slight ring beginning to permeate through his eardrums.

She nods her head dejectedly. “They were sure to keep their paths… secure. They filed out in groups, yet some stayed behind. Those individuals disappeared before I returned.”

He crinkles his nose in distaste. “This shouldn’t have happened now.” He gripes begrudgingly. “It’s still quite some time before the uprising.”

Gu Hyang nods. “Indeed. But it seems that they’ve had other plans in mind.”

That leaves a sour taste in Yeo Woon’s mouth. “They can’t train her in a month’s time.”

_Impossible._

“Perhaps the girl has declined?” She asks hesitantly.

He shakes his head no. “It’s not her choice. Even if she says no, there is no guarantee that they will let her live.”

“They’d kill her to preserve their honor- and Lord Cheon and Lady Ga Ok’s.”

He nods in agreement. “If they’re benevolent enough, they’ll take her away from here- away from Joseon. Perhaps station under the Chinese. Regardless, they won’t let her go.”

“I wouldn’t put that down for fact.”

Both Gu Hyang and Yeo Woon turn to look at the young assassin who managed to intrude into their conversation. The dark skinned youth has a set of coal black eyes and hair intricately pony-tailed and braided to the side, with tufts still loose on the other. But instead of wearing the stationary black and red of the Heuksa Chorong robes, he wears an earth brown ensemble- an ensemble of the newly rising elites.

“Tell me.” The Sky Lord insists.

The youth bows. “My Lord, the Old Man has joined their cause. He will not let Lady Ga Ok’s daughter come to harm- no matter what.”

Yeo Woon’s fingers twitch. “What?”

Gu Hyang tenses. “He’s in Qing right now. We sent him there last month.  _I_ escorted him there,” she enunciates, her hands balling into fists beneath her sleeves.

“Yet it could only be him- the one cunning enough to successfully take the Lady’s box and the former Lord’s broad sword. Stolen- right off his rack.”

“Then she will live.”

_Jin Ju will live, Baek Dong Soo._

“We don’t know for sure if he will protect her if she declines,” Gu Hyang turns to say.

“And if she’ll decline.” Yeo Woon adds.

_Will you decline, Jin Ju?_

“No matter,” the young assassin reiterates. “The Old Man will guard her with his life. Even if she does accept, the other assassins will no doubt have the most loyalty to him.”

“And the Old Man will place his loyalty in the girl.”

A silent trek permeates throughout the throne room. The only peculiar sound is the unsteady catches in the Sky Lord’s breathing. Two assassins and Gu Hyang follow suit as his eyes begin to glass over. Relieving him of his water bowl, they gently help him lay down and tuck him under the covers. It doesn’t take long for her to file out and leave him with two hundred bowing assassins.

But Yeo Woon is far from falling asleep.

He wonders how it would have all gone down if he’d taken Dong Soo’s arm like he originally planned to. Would he have been able to get here in time? Would he have caught the defectors before they got to Jin Ju? Or would he have simply hunted them down eventually and slaughtered them all? It wouldn’t matter, he thinks to himself at first.

_But it does._

He knows it does.

He quietly shifts his line of sight towards the rack of swords that climb up the royal staircase. He eyes the empty rack at the bottom- the rack where the former lord’s broad sword lay the morning before.

_It matters because Dong Soo matters._

It matters because Jin Ju matters to Dong Soo. And Yeo Woon knows what the next order of business will be.

_For you, Dong Soo._

The uprising takes place in a little over a month- just enough time to make or break the guild. Yeo Woon quietly contemplates on Cheon’s choice to name him heir apparent. Perhaps things would have been easier if he was simply an assassin and nothing more.

_But then I wouldn’t be able to protect you, Dong Soo._

And all that matters is Dong Soo. And Jin Ju matters to Dong Soo.

_Do you dream of my well-being, Dong Soo?_

He doesn’t know for sure now, but he hopes he does. He hopes.

_Do you dream of me the way I dream of you?_

He silently weeps as his eyes gaze upon the sword stair, the fever rising considerably. He doesn’t even feel the brown haired youth touch his forehead and bolt out the room when he notices it’s far too hot.

All he can see is the sword rack that will soon hold his short swords.

_My swords, in exchange for your life, Dong Soo. My swords, in exchange for Jin Ju and your sanity._

His eyes slip closed and a light smile touches his lips. I’ll protect her, he promises inwardly.

_I’ll give you both a happy ending._

When Gu Hyang rushes in minutes later, he’s already halfway between the world of the living and the land of the dead.

*******

**Dong Soo**

When the assailants bombard him, he’s already half asleep. He feels a heavy thud against his back, and falls forward and off the horse. When his head hits the rock, a shockwave of pain and emotions run through his body as he remembers the tortured brown orbs belonging to the Sky Lord and the equally tortured expression of the one Jin Ju who he made promise to protect the love of his life.

When a second hit comes his way, he pushes his hand out and stops the fist before it can catch him on the head again. His dark brown eyes flash with a short burst of hatred he doesn’t know he possesses, his body fully alert. He sends a flying kick at the perpetrator. Without a second thought, he goes into a state of uncontrolled apathy that his teacher once told him would be the bane of his spirit.

They come towards him with spears, knives, swords, and assortments of other weapons he’s already practiced with in the mountains. A spear tries to gut him. At the same time, daggers fly towards him. He yanks the spear out of one of the assailant’s hands and deflects the barrage of daggers, kunai, shuriken, and other mobile blades.

Then, he sees the mustachioed man with the too little fingers and a burn scar he swears wasn’t there the last time he saw him.

_In._

A jolt of pain breaks Dong Soo’s concentration as the wounds inflicted on his skull from the previous night decide to make themselves known. He feels a heaviness begin to ovetake him, but fights the urge to keel over as he sees another line of swords come for his throat.

He feels something whiz past his ears, and he realizes in time that they’re arrows. His eyes widen.

_Jin Ju!_

When he turns around to see his savior, he’s met with a smaller, more petite figure.

The samini’s grip on her weapon is as firm as ever, but he can’t help but feel a flower of disappoint bloom in his chest as he begins to understand that she  _still wasn’t Jin Ju_.

In attempts to scramble away, but coincidentally gets caught by the cuff by none other than Sa Mo, who saunters up from behind with his butcher knife out.

“A fellow like you should have been eliminated a long time ago.” The older man gripes angrily, ready to snap off his neck. In begins to babble uncontrollably, tears beginning to leak from his eyes he falls to the man’s feet and begins hugging it frantically. Sa Mo kicks him away and raises his cleaver.

“Captain!” Dong Soo manages to call weakly. He sees the samini’s eyes travel to him, her bow still poised at the rogues behind him. Her usually solemn expression is now tinged with the slightest bit of hardness. Her blank brown eyes flash. They challenge him.

“Stop.” He manages to let escape. “He’s begging earnestly, can’t you see?”

Ji Sun’s eyes don’t leave him.

“Impossible! Trash like him keep crawling back and make things worse. And don’t you remember what he did to Jin Ju and her father!? We can end our misery now and his in the process!” Sa Mo exclaims.

The sound of her name breaks something inside of him. “Captain.” He scrapes pleadingly. “He’s begging for his life. There’s nothing more pitiful than that.” He finishes.

The old man falters and finally tucks his knife away, before hoisting the perpetrator up by the cuff. His expression is dark.

Dong Soo then lets his gaze travel to In. “Leave before they change their mind.” He says firmly, though his eyes ache for sleep and his head pounds. In gives him a look he can’t quite decipher before scrambling away.

“You rotten brat! There goes a problem that’ll just come back tomorrow!” Sa Mo exclaims angrily.

Dong Soo doesn’t have time to react to the harsh words however. His stitches tear, somewhere, and he feels the ringing in his ear begin to intensify greatly. The horse that carried him thus far whinnies somewhere close by.

Ji Sun’s bow is on the ground and she already has arms around Dong Soo’s waist. He hears bits and pieces of soothing words in his ear, but by then, his eyes are already closed. He slips into unconsciousness right after.

*******

**Dong Soo**

He wakes to Cho Rip and Sa Mo’s worried expressions.

_Where are you, Un-ah?_

“Finally,” grumbles the eldest in the room. Dong Soo guesses he’s been sleeping for a while.

“What time is it?” He mutters weakly, allowing Cho Rip to help him up.

“A little past noon.” Says a new voice. It’s Ji Sun. And when Dong Soo’s eyes fall upon her, he feels his veins constrict.

It surprises Dong Soo, seeing her now. When he first came home from the mountains, seeing her caused him to lose his breath and his heart to skip beats and then race into oblivion. But now, now his eyes simply widened in true befuddlement. Was this the same Ji Sun that he’d been in love for over three years now?

_If it is, then why isn’t my heart racing?_

A hand absently flutters over his chest.

“Let’s eat first,” he hears Sa Mo say. “Eat first, plan later. The trio will be here in a little bit.” The older man pats Dong Soo on the back and beckons for Ji Sun to place the tray before them. His eyes still gaze upon her monotonous form, attempting to decipher these new found reactions.

But one name pulls him out of his reverie.

_Un-ah._

He sharply turns his head to Cho Rip, who is in deep conversation with Sa Mo. Without another thought, he grasps the younger man’s shoulder and pulls his gaze towards him.

“What  **about** Un-ah?” He grits through his teeth, a steady thrum of pain beginning to resound in his head.

“He kidnapped you last night!” The man flushes angrily, attempting to pull away from Dong Soo’s iron grip.

But the hand stays put. “Who told you that?” He enunciates firmly, his voice laced with a familiar coldness he no doubt picked up from the Sky Lord.

“What kind of question is that?” He hears Sa Mo exclaim. “He came back with Mi So completely unconscious! Then, when the guards went with him to get you, you were gone!”

“And this morning, you showed up with a horse off one of the surrounding farms. We could only assume that you managed to escape.” The nobleman tries to explain, his hands now grabbing Dong Soo by the shoulder. But then a jolt of pain wracks through his person when the stabbed shoulder is shaken with too much haste. Dong Soo yelps, and Cho Rip’s hand shifts away, frightened.

But those dark brown orbs, haunted with sins of god knows what, can’t seem to leave him.

“He saved me.” He grinds through his teeth, willing the pain to subside. “He brought the horse for me so I could go home. He took care of me last night.”

_And I saved him from you. I couldn’t let you hurt him, Cho Rip. I couldn’t._

“See? He put me in his clothes.” He fingers the fabric to show him, but then realizes that they’re not the black and red bloodied robes he awoke to earlier. These are his own robes. Pale blue and completely clean.

“What- what’s this? Where are his robes?” He asks furiously, his eyes darting about the room frantically.

_They had my blood on them. They had his blood on them._

He can’t seem to stop the tears.

_But they kept me warm. **He**  kept me warm._

“I washed them.” He hears a solemn, lilting voice say. His eyes travel back to Ji Sun, who has a kind smile gracing her lips. “They’re safe.” She reassures him.

_She believes me._

He knows that somewhere, deep down, she loves Un-ah.

_Do you, Samini? Do you love him?_

“I don’t believe it!” He hears Cho Rip yell. Dong Soo blinks, and suddenly, the entirety of the room can’t believe they’ve just witnessed Cho Rip’s tone surpass its usual level of understanding. They all stare, horrified.

“He kicked you, beat you!” He lips scathingly. His hands drip Dong Soo’s arms now, staying far, far away from the shoulders. “How can you still care about him, Dong Soo-ah!?” The voice cracks. “Forget about me, forget about Mi So! Look at you! You look nothing like the man who I found painting at the inn! Ever since you came back from the gambling house, you’ve been everywhere but with us! It’s bad enough we had to lose you for a month to insanity, then for three years! Three years!”

The younger of the two doesn’t stop there. He grabs a hold of Dong Soo’s face, and all Dong Soo can do is let him. “Three years, do you know what that did to us!? Me? The trio!? All because of him! You went from  _our_  Dong Soo to a shell of your former self! A robot, a swordsman fit for the history books but not the protector we grew up with. And then you started to come back to us, and we were  _so happy_. So happy when you picked up your brush again, picked it up and starting doodling the same pictures you used to make in our workbooks back at the camp. And then- and then he took you from us again! He sent you back, half unconscious and not of our own. He made Jin Ju run. How can you give into someone so selfish? How can you still care for someone who takes and takes, but  _never gives back_?”

They’re both crying now, and tiny droplets of moisture are falling from Ji Sun’s eyes while Sa Mo tries his hardest to quell his emotions.

“How can you still love him, Dong Soo?” The other asks, voice raw and broken. “How can you love him- after all he’s done to you? He took you away from us- he took away our Dong Soo. How can you forgive him for destroying you, Dong Soo-ah? Are we nothing compared to him?”

“I-”

“You what?” The nobleman cuts in. “You what? You think you understand him? You don’t, Baek Dong Soo, but I do.” He furiously wipes away tears from his reddened face. “To be exiled by your own. To be hated by your own. Do you know I was on my way to becoming him, Dong Soo?” He finally whispers.

Dong Soo’s eyes widen.

“I wanted to kill my father- sometimes, I still do. I wanted to use my newly gained abilities from the camp to destroy him and show my family that monsters can only breed monsters.”

Dong Soo can only look aghast.

“But I didn’t.” He breaks again. “I can’t. Because you were there, and the trio, and Captain, and Mi So, and everyone else. Because I believed in you, and your words, and the righteousness of your beliefs. And I didn’t. But he did.”

Dong Soo breaks.

“He killed his father, so I understand. Monsters only breed monsters. His father was a monster to him, but he didn’t fight. He didn’t fight Dong Soo. He didn’t fight the demon inside him. He let it become him. He was never the Un-ah we knew- never the Un-ah we both loved.”

Sa Mo and Ji Sun are no longer in the room. The sliding door is clasped shut, the food lays untouched between the two childhood friends. Cho Rip shakes violently- with rage or pain, Dong Soo does not know.

“How can you still forgive him, Dong Soo?” He asks again.

_I don’t know._

“How can you still believe in him- after all he’s done?”

_Because he loves me._

“Why are you letting him do this to you? Why are you letting him ruin you?”

_Because I ruined him. I ruined him._

“Dong Soo-ah. Baek Dong Soo, look at me,” the younger of the two demands.

_I can’t, Cho Rip._

But Cho Rip’s hands have stopped shaking now. They gently hold his face again, bringing Dong Soo’s watery eyes to Cho Rip’s.

“If we’re still brothers-” The other takes a shaky breath. “If we’re still brothers, tell me why. Tell me why you won’t let him go. Tell me why you won’t come back to us.”

_I can’t, Cho Rip. I ju-_

“Because he loves me.” He mouths softly. His eyes drop to his lap. He imagines the Sky Lord’s pale hands in his. “He loves me,” Dong Soo repeats.

_He loves me._

Cho Rip seems to think differently on the matter. “You don’t hurt the ones you love.” He nods viciously. ‘You don’t hurt the ones that put their lives on the line for you.”

Dong Soo suddenly grasps Cho Rip by the shoulder. “But he does care for me. He loves me Cho Rip. If he didn’t, he would have taken my arm off last night. I would truly be dead.”

Cho rip slaps his arms away, but not too harshly. “Do you hear yourself?”

“No, no,  _no_. Cho Rip, listen to me.” He steadies him and brings him closer, shoving the food tray to the side and spilling the contents onto the wooden flooring. “Listen to me, Cho Rip. _Listen_. He loves me.” He says again, assuring his racing heart.

_It’s racing. It’s racing again, and I can barely breathe._

“He kissed me.” He finally whispers. The words send a shock through Cho Rip, because the man instantly freezes in his hold. But Dong Soo doesn’t stop there. “He kissed me, like men kiss their wives. Like Teacher said he wanted to kiss Lady Earth Lord when he finally reached the Underworld, to apologize for everything he couldn’t do for- for everything he should have given up for her. Like Ajumma wants to kiss Sa Mo, but can’t because their lives and their choices doesn’t permit them to do so. Like lovers, Cho Rip. He kissed me like I was his lover.”

_He loves me._

He takes one of Cho Rip’s hands and holds it closely to his chest. “You’re my brother? My brother, Cho Rip? If you’re my brother, then don’t do this.” He pleads.

_Because he loves me._

“It’s my fault he did what he did.” He sobs pitifully. “I- I could’ve done something had I looked harder, but I never did. It was always about me, me, me. Me, who wanted to save the rest of you, but in the end it was still about _me_.”

Cho Rip doesn’t say anything, but his hand’s gone limp in Dong Soo’s clutch. Dong Soo squeezes it frantically. “Only you can do something about this,” he admits fearfully. “He’ll do it for me. He’ll destroy them for me. I don’t know Un-ah, Cho Rip. I wish I did, but I don’t. But if there’s one thing I do understand, then it’s that he’ll do it for me. He won’t hesitate to destroy whatever gets in the way of protecting me.”

_Even if it includes himself._

“Please, Cho Rip.” He begs. “Please. I know you still remember when we were children- when he used to sneak in rice for us when we lost the challenges and were supposed to go hungry for the night. When you were sick and I fell asleep in the middle of my watch, he’d do it for me. He took care of us, Cho Rip.  _Don’t you remember_?”

_**Won’t** you remember, Cho Rip?_

“Baek Dong Soo!” He hears him yell, and this time, he shoves him back. Dong Soo, in no condition to support himself, falls back roughly against the bedroll. The sudden movement and harsh impact stings as he remembers a particularly nasty kick from the night before, courtesy of one of Hong Dae Jo’s soldiers. He feels the wound open and blood begin to seep into the pillow underneath. He feels Cho Rip gasp and begin to screech for hel-

But he pulls the man by his wrist, and brings him down by his side again. His hold is weaker.

_My heart. It’s not racing anymore._

“Cho Rip.” He whispers, eyes glassy and brimming with tears. “Please. Just…”

_Please._

He feels the younger man break into a sob and pull him into a hug, his head now lolling against his chest. He forces his eyes to stay open.

“Listen to me, Cho Rip!” He’s lost all his sense by now. The pleading, begging figure from seconds before is replaced with a certain persona Baek Dong Soo was sure he’d left behind.

“Listen to me,” he grits through his teeth. “Listen to me. He’s our friend. He’s your  _brother_.”

Cho Rip cries into his shoulder again as he feels Ji Sun and Sa Mo’s frantic hands begin to move away the spilled contents of the food and comforter to get to Dong Soo’s wound.

“If we don’t save him,” he starts. He feels the wetness of the blood on his neck, and he lightly recalls a small lesion that’s stitched properly on the back. He feels a shiver run through his body, and the pit of his stomach tightens. But he manages to hold on to the younger man regardless.

“If-” He took a shaky breath. “If we don’t save him, then we’re no better. What’s the point in living this life if we don’t live it with the ones we care for?” He feels himself slipping away.

“I wouldn’t be able to live knowing I could do something about it.” He begins to murmur absently. “I wouldn’t be able to live knowing I could save you, if the chance ever came. I- I would do everything in my power to change whatever destiny was written.”

He feels Sa Mo cradle his head while Ji Sun begins to cleanse the wound and heat the needle over the candle flame.

“You’d try to change destiny for me, wouldn’t you, Cho Rip?”

Cho Rip can’t form words- not with his heavy cries.

Dong Soo slips a hand over Cho Rip’s shaking one. He lightly squeezes it, all his strength drained from his body.

“You would. I know you would. So let’s-”

He thinks he can feel deep, brown eyes on his visage.

“Let’s change destiny for him. For us.”

Cho Rip doesn’t get a chance to reply as the man has already slipped into the space between this world and the next.


	8. Chapter 8

_2 Weeks Later_

**Yeo Woon**

He’s escorted through the gates with brown garbed youth obediently trailing behind him. When they finally reach the gazebo, he nods sharply for the youth to stay put and instantly follows the royal soldier to where the Queen stands patiently next to her father.

But then soldiers slither out from the sliding doors and beckon their swords to his throat. The brown skinned youth’s hand hovers over his sword, but a raised hand from yeo Woon causes the young man to instantly drop his hands and his head. Seconds later, the young assassin flits away from the federation of soldiers, going back the way they came.

A few of the royal soldiers prepare to follow him, only to fall short and pass out. The needles ae in their necks, arms, ankles, and throat. The rest come towards him with battle cries, only to feel firm fists hit them in their pressure points and legs knock the breath out of their lungs. They drop like flies. Not once does the Sky Lord reach for his short swords.

When the elder woman and he finally meet eyes, there’s a sudden electrical pulse permeating through the air. The father, one of the nobles of the court, hesitantly steps back as the two figures bore holes through each other.

The Queen’s lip upturns the slightest bit. “Impressive,” she calls, poised and proper at the middle of the gazebo.

He rises from his crouched position and follows all the way up the stairs and in front of the Queen. He bows first. Surprisingly, the woman follows.

“I’ve heard many interesting things about you, Sky Lord.” The older woman clips, her tone half amiable, half wary.

“It’s a pleasure to have an audience with you, my Queen.” He nods politely.

She smirks. “They say you might as well be the best they’ve seen- perhaps even better than the former Sky lord. What was his name again? Chio, was it?”

Yeo Woon doesn’t know if she’s being rude, or simply ignorant. “Cheon,” he corrects gently.

“He killed Sado, yes? On his death day at that.” She scoffs. “Defeats the purpose of the death day itself.” She drawls. Her father cracks the lightest of smiles. “But I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”

Yeo Woon guards his tongue tactfully. He wonders if the brown haired youth is keeping a close eye on the surroundings. “It was as it had to be.” He says carefully.

“I suppose.” She exasperates. Then, she smiles.

But it isn’t one of those haughty smirks Hong Dae Jo likes to throw at him. It’s not a kind smile, like Baek Dong Soo’s. It’s not wistful, like Gu Hyang’s. It’s a knowing smile. Yeo Woon lightly touches the needle placed deftly between two of his appendages. He doesn’t know what exactly it is she knows, but it’s one of those smiles he’s seen the most cunning of being erect on their lips.

“It would bid you well to become one of my men, Sky Lord.” She begins. She lightly pats her purple robes, flicking away the nonexistent dirt. “The things I can offer you in exchange for your services will exceed far beyond any rewards package your guild has ever been offered in the past. Gold, connections, more fame. I can give you those and so much more. Having you by my side may as well put me where the Emperor sits- as powerful and transcendent. No army can defeat me if I have the Lord of the Skies by my side to protect me.”

The glint in her eyes is raw- almost unreal. He thinks maybe this is what he should have tallied, instead of Hong Dae Jo.

He simply turns his eyes away, his answer as indirect as it is obvious. “Does the Queen request my services in betraying the Defense Minister?”

Her smirk widens. “Perhaps, perhaps not. I’m not one with infinite patience, Sky Lord. Join me.”

“And I not as shallow as you perceive me to be.” He retorts rather politely.

Luckily for the both of them, the woman isn’t the type to beat a dead horse. She sighs and flicks more dirt away from her shawl. “I suppose you have better things to concern yourself with,” she says dryly, but there’s a touch of understanding underneath the words. A touch Yeo Woon knows symbolizes that they’re both equals in their positions- equal in their power. Neither wanted the other as their enemy.

“Then, Sky Lord. I shall request an assignment.” She starts again. This time, Yeo Woon’s ears perk up, and he locks gazes with her again. “Show me what the court maids gossip about during their daily routines. Show me your strength, which they swear they’ve witnessed at least once in their pitiful lives.”

Yeo Woon takes a deep breath. “What does an assassin have to show?” He asks genuinely.

_Besides the blood on my swords._

But it’s as if she can hear his very thoughts. “Can you bring me a head, Sky Lord?”

He inwardly sighs. “Whose head would your Majesty prefer?” He speaks as if he’s following a memo.

Her expression shifts. “What if I want the King’s head?” She asks.

Yeo Woon lets a fake smile grace his lips. “Surely her majesty jests.”

That makes the woman emit a small chuckle. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you, besides that beautiful face of course.” Yeo Woon nods his head lightly, allowing a forced blush to appear, as to appease the woman.

But then, something happens.

“Then, I have another head in mind.” She drawls. Their eyes meet again. “Bring me the head of the Sword Saint’s disciple.”

The words are so clear cut and properly executed that Yeo Woon cannot help but emit a small laugh. A real laugh. A deadly laugh.

“What would her Majesty want with simple swordsman’s head?” He asks.

“Does an assassin need a reason to kill?” She retorts, her eyes widening- challenging him.

And the next laugh is a little louder, and the grin is plastered on his face like paint would be on a newly built manse.

“My Queen asks for the one thing I cannot give her.” He replies honestly.

“You can do all of this.” Her eyes throw daggers as the beaten soldiers at the foot of the gazebo. “But you cannot carry out a simple request for the head of a useless commoner? What are your excuses, Sky Lord?”

Yeo Woon doesn’t think there’s any point in denying it anymore. It won’t be long before he’s gone either way.

“He is the reason for my existence.” He breathes. “Without him, I am nothing.”

The woman’s eyes widen. “Playing tricks, Sky Lord?” She snaps.

He smiles wistfully. “Not with you, your Majesty. You asked for an excuse, I gave you the truth. Surely that shows the level of respect I have for you.”

The woman is clearly taken aback, but manages to compose herself in time. “Very well then, I have other things in mind.” She takes a deep breath. “I want the Defense Minister’s head.”

Yeo Woon nods. “That can be arranged- but a word of advice, my Queen. Death by my hands is obsolete. Death by royal orders…”

The Queen’s head snaps up. “What do you mean?”

Yeo Woon nods patiently. “I only ask that you leave Hong Dae Jo to Heuksa Chorong. I can assure you that you will not be disappointed.” He knows what she’s thinking, as a trickle of fear flashes before her eyes. “Nor will you be betrayed.”

A taught silence hangs in the air as the three figures stand solemnly amongst the fluttering wind of the early day.

“Very well then.” She manages to say. Her father puts a light hand on her shoulder, but she instantly flicks it away. “I will leave you to your work, Sky Lord.”

He bows to her and prepares to make his way out of the royal grounds, but is held back by a firm, white hand.

The Queen’s hand.

She urges him to turn around and face her again. “Tell me, Sky Lord.” Her tone is soft, almost a lilting tune in the breeze. “How does one become another’s everything?” She takes a deep breathe. There’s no malice in her voice.

The question leaves him puzzled, but contemplative. “I do not know.” He replies truthfully.

“Then how can you say you are nothing without him? How can he be your everything?” Her eyes are shining with curiosity, her words forceful and contagious.

“By existing, I suppose. By being there when there shouldn’t have been anyone to begin with.”

She lets off an absent chuckle. “Does he know?” She asks seriously.

“No, my Queen.”

_Nor shall he ever._

But the queen understands. She purses her lips together. “I suppose we all have our weaknesses- even someone as ruthless and beautifully made as you.”

“I suppose.” He replies, ignoring her comments regarding his supposed beauty.

I know you see the monster inside, Queen.

Then he bows again, and she bows in response. He walks away without looking back.

*******

**Jin Ju**

When she sees him, he’s not alone.

There’s a young man trailing a few steps behind him. An assassin no doubt, but she’s never seen this one before. She curses her luck and climbs the tree. She hides within it’s conglomerate of leaves and branches, waiting for them to pass so she can go the other way and get back to the inn before the assassins loitering her house figure out she’s disappeared.

But Woonie is anything but careless. The slightest rustle of the leaves above perk his ears. He waves for the younger assassin to keep walking, and the man clothed in brown bows deeply and moves on. It isn’t till he’s out of her sight that she decides to jump down.

When they’re finally facing each other, Jin Ju can’t help but find that the solemn expression has strengthened- weakened. All at the same time. Though the pale, creamy skin is as flawless as the last time she looked upon it, there is heaviness present on the sharpness of his cheekbones. His jaw is set, his teeth grind the slightest. His eyes are devoid of emotion, yet they retain the slightest bit of understanding. He baffles her. To this very moment, he baffles her.

_And you know it._

But he doesn’t say anything.

“What went wrong?” She demands. She knows no other way to begin. He stares plainly at her. She clicks her tongue, already annoyed. “What went wrong?” She repeats. “What went  _wrong_?”

He straightens his neck. “It’s not what went wrong. Nothing ever went wrong. This is the course the world has set you upon. What you choose next is what will dictate your life- now, and forever.”

“Riddles within riddles!” She exclaims. “I don’t want riddles anymore! I want explanations!” She cries. She doesn’t know what makes her do it, but she does. She grabs him by the collar of his silk, black and red robes and pulls him towards her face. “No more tricks.” She whispers. “I want answers. Real answers. Tell me why, Sky Lord.”

“What more is there to explain?” He replies politely. “I have no doubt the Old Man has informed you of the basics of the situation at hand, and the ultimatum of course.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen! You’re the Sky Lord! How can I possibly overtake your position? I thought you assassins were supposed to be smart! What’s a common thief going to do for a union of killers!?”

“Sit on a throne that rightfully belongs to her. It’s right by blood.” He replies blankly, as if it’s the most obvious piece of information in the world.

She releases him and balls her hands into a fist. “But I’m not the dead ajusshi’s daug-”

“How do know that?” He cuts in, not allowing her to finish her sentence. “How do you know you aren’t his daughter? The former Lady told different stories to different people- so each could find their own peace in your existence. My teacher, my father figure- he died thinking you were his daughter. The Sword Saint- he died  _thinking_  you were his daughter. The former Lady died  _knowing_ you were her daughter.”

“She was kind enough to let them die peacefully. That was all there was to it. But in reality, have you a clue who your father is? Is there anything else here, besides pure assumption, which can prove that you were the Sword Saint’s child rather than my former Lord’s? Maybe, in a newer age, there might be. But now? Now, there’s no way to prove that you were one or the other’s. The only truth that exists now is that you are my former Lady’s daughter. Her scars were witnessed by both the Old Man and your adoptive father. They know the truth about you. They know  _you_  are  _hers_. And that’s all that matters.”

She cracks a sharp slap across his face. Her hand leaves a violent red imprint on the pale skin, while blood begins to pool at the corner of his mouth. His eyes drop to the forest floor below.

Her hands are back on his collar. “Don’t you think I know that?” She whispers scathingly. “Don’t you think I know what I am- and what I could be?”

A sneer escapes the Sky Lord’s mouth, but his eyes remain affixed on the foliage below. “Which one are you ashamed of then?”

Another slap, and this time, he stumbles backwards and on to the ground. She pounces on him, effectively digging a knee into his stomach. She throws a punch that lands on his jaw, causing the side of his face to dig into the dirt below. She yanks him up by the hair and scratches his neck with the harsh edges of her long nails before planting another fist into his face. His head lolls in her grip, but not once-  _not once_ \- does he raise a hand for her to stop.

And she wills herself not to let one will fall, because if it does, she’ll end herself here and now.

“Who are you ashamed of, Jin Ju?” He asks again, softer this time. He coughs up a globule of blood, spitting it onto the forest floor. “Your mother- or my teacher?” He continues.

Her voice catches in her throat.

“Is it because you know you’re his?”

Memories flash before Jin Ju’s eyes. A vague, distant memory. It’s only been half a year since the events, but they’re like memories from another life now. They exist as a reminder of something she can’t quite put her finger on. She’s been having a lot of these flashes nowadays. Ever since the battle with the assassins and the attainment of the sword and box of marbles, she frequently falls into trances where she only sees two faces- two dead faces.

She remembers the heavily bearded man with the black cloth wrapped around his head, holding his hair back. His multitude of clay beads hang around his neck like a royal wreath, the sheath at his waist the proverbial crown. He sits before her, bowls of rice and vegetables set out before them like a royal meal. There’s water in one mug, flower wine in the next. The clay tumblers lay filled, and she can’t help but take a sip from each.

Then she sees a thin, lanky woman with fingers made of iron and eyes born of steel. But she’s beautiful. More beautiful than any other giaseng or woman Jin Ju’s ever laid eyes on. Her harsh demeanor contrasts with the waist length black hair that flows behind her like a halo as she walks that familiar dirt path in the forest- their first meeting place. The aura of pure malice that radiates off her person clashes with the warmth she gives Jin Ju two weeks after their first meeting. Her marbles aren’t just weapons, she remembers, because she gives her a few as a gesture of good faith one night, after they’ve eaten and drank their fill.

Then she sees them walk into the plains by the hills, where she takes her horse out. She sees them in their daily garb. Him in his ratty, black fabric, looking as if he’d just crawled of the nearest inn without a coin left to spare. She in her dark brown robes, looking as if she belonged on an open palanquin carried by the Underworld’s guards with the King himself as her attendant rather than on her feet in the plains.

As she stands from a distance, she watches them finally stand before one other, two feet away. They stare into each other’s eyes.

Jin Ju is always snatched away from her reverie the second she gets to this part. Because this part isn’t a memory- it’s a dream. Sometimes, she wishes she wasn’t able to distinguish between the two, but she can. And when she does, she’s ripped from the dream like a doll is ripped from a child’s hand.

But then she realizes she’s not out of it right now. For the first time since she’s had these flashes, she’s not being snatched out like she doesn’t belong. It’s as if the man she’s desperately clutching right now is preventing her from being brought back. He’s keeping her there, forcing her to watch- forcing her to learn.

“Do you see, Jin Ju?” She hears him whisper.

What’s worse is that his dark brown orbs are boring straight into hers. But she doesn’t see him, she doesn’t see him like the way she sees  _them_.

And she does. She sees two very different individuals with hearts made from steel rather than gold. But that doesn’t make them any less human and no less different. They’re one of the same, even when they aren’t. They’re of the same breed, but not of the same path. Yet they walk the same road, though their hearts belong elsewhere.

They’re one, but not together. Together, but not one. They’re heaven and hell- water and oil.

_Earth and sky._

And she knows. She’s known all this time. The brown eyed ajusshi with the long black hair and the broad sword encased in a sheath made from leather and iron, painted with kol. The woman with the ageless face and the endless expression of deep, silent mourning.

_My eyes are as brown and deep as his. My face as long and deeply troubled as hers._

Woonie places a shaking hand on her chest, inches above her breast. There’s no ill aura regarding his touch, yet she can only stare frightfully.

_He knows._

“Your heart is as broken as his was.” He presses firmly against her gray robes, placing emphasis on the space. “He lost it to the only person who never truly wanted it- only looked after it because she was obliged to, and nothing else.” He raises his eyes to hers, his hand still there. “Do you know how it feels to love someone who will never love you back? To be with them- to be with them and not be a part of them?”

She can only look into his haunted eyes. She thinks she understands, perhaps she does. He seems to.

“The former Lady- she loved the Sword Saint. Perhaps to the very end. Perhaps not. Perhaps she learned to love my former Lord like he loved her. Perhaps she pretended to love him. Perhaps nothing ever changed. No one knows for sure.” He finishes weakly.

“But she still cared enough to give them the peace they deserved before they departed for the Underworld. So what are you ashamed of, Jin Ju? Your mother, who gave up being with the Saint so she could save the Devil? The Saint that could be your father, who didn’t give your mother the same amount he took from her? Or are you ashamed of my Lord, Jin Ju? Are you ashamed of the Devil who acknowledged your existence, who loved a woman who could never love him back? Tell me, so I can understand.”

She lets go of him and shakily removes herself from his person.

But the rage persists.

“All of them! I hate them all!” She says angrily, though the words are nothing more than pure lies. “I hate them for leaving me! I hate her for giving me away and then just showing up one day and then leaving. And then coming back again, and then  _leaving forever_. Now look at me!”

She makes him look at her again. She hauls him off the ground with all her strength.

“Look at me, Woonie.” She whispers hoarsely. “Look at me and tell me I’m worthy enough to be known as my mother’s daughter. Tell me a baseborn thief is good enough to be a Lady’s only child.”

_Tell me I’m useless and that I don’t deserve anything good, and then I can run away relieved. Run away from here, run away from my problems- run away from Baek Dong Soo._

“If you weren’t, would your mother have ever gone looking for you?” He asks in return. “If you were nothing to her, wouldn’t she let you continue to be nothing?” He soothes softly.

“But I would have enjoyed being nothing. I loved being no one. I was a commoner’s daughter- everything a barren woman and her husband can dream of. I didn’t want this. I didn’t  _need_  this.” She croaks.

“I cannot read the hearts of the living.” He says truthfully. “But I can always observe. So can you. And I know you do. So the answer lies with you.”

They let the silence overtake them afterwards.

*******

**Jin Ju**

She leaves to find supplies in the dense forest. She purposefully stays away longer than needed, as to test him.

When she returns, he’s sitting where she left him. His back against the tree trunk, his hair mussed and face dirtied. Splotches of blood cake the corner of his lips, his face a violent dark blue, red, and purple from the abuse she imposed upon him earlier.

But he doesn’t lend a hand to his bruised jaw or cheek. Doesn’t work to remove the dirt on his lips, or spit out the blood staining his teeth. He sits numbly against the tree. As still as the mountains that adorn the scenery behind the plains- as calm as the water that travels through the lower valleys.

She’s found a nearby stream. She hauls him up, one arm wrapped around his waist while the other holds the sword straps sheathing his short swords. She helps him move to where the string of water runs into a nearby, tiny lake.

She urges him to sit on one of the flat rocks while she crouches over the stream. She produces a makeshift bowl, in reality a gourd that was probably tossed away by a traveling pack some time in the past few months. She rinses the hollow cup and then scoops up some water. She leads it to his lips, allowing him to take the cool water into his mouth so he can wash out the blood. While he gurgles and spits the side, she refills the cup again.

They work in silence. She rips a piece of cloth off her robe and dips it into the liquid. She squeezes the excess moisture from the fabric and brings it to his face. She begins wiping off the dirt on his face, careful not to impose on the bruises and scratches she’s left ingrained there. He doesn’t flinch once as the wet fabric ghosts presses against the scrapes. When she reaches his neck, he voluntarily tips his head up, as to let her clean the blood and flecks of skin she left behind in the wake of her rage.

Their eyes don’t meet.

““It’s all my fault.” She whispers, pulling out the herbs she collected during her time away from him. “He died protecting me. He could have escaped… if he didn’t try to protect me.” She swears the tears will not fall. She won’t let them. She soaks the herbs in the water and then puts them in her mouth, beginning to chew lightly.

“No father would run from death if it meant saving his own child it.” He responds earnestly. Then, a dark, repressive cloak drapes over his person, and Jin Ju feels as if her mere statement has touched something inside him that has been sleeping all this time. “My father took to the Underworld so I… So I wouldn’t kill anyone else again.” He admits. “I made the choice not do his death justice.”

Her gaze broadens. She’s heard f rumors- rumors that to become a fully fledged killer, one had to destroy the one thing they loved most.

_But Baek Dong Soo is alive._

She spits the moistened and crushed herbs into the cloth which she’s washed again. She wraps it as if it’s a pouch, and then presses it against the darkening bruise on his cheek. “Ajusshi would have lived longer if I just never existed.” She begins. “He would have been able to teach you more. Maybe- maybe Omma would have more time to learn to love him.”

_Maybe you would have forgotten your real father and started calling the ajusshi Father. Did you, Woonie? Did you ever call him Father?_

A broken laugh escapes her lips as she realizes that the man before her was much luckier now than she’d ever be.

“Hearts don’t just pick and choose who they want and do not want. Not even time can mend the lesions a destructive heart leaves behind. It is what it is- it was what it was. My Lord knew this well, which is why he never hated the Sword Saint. He begrudged his own heart for being so weak- for being in love.”

“Do you resent yours?” She asks curiously, allowing her fingers to press harder on the wound, as to let the juice to properly coat the wound.

He releases a breathy smile- a beautiful little upturn of his lips.

“Not any more,” he replies honestly, the smile still touching his lips. “Perhaps that’s why I was born his pupil rather than his son.”

By then, they both understand that an end to their conversation is coming There’s a distant rustle in the background, even with the light swoosh of the stream. It’s the green eyed-ajusshi, she knows.

“I know what I have to do.” She says absently. She lets Woonie take hold of the pouch over his bruise.

“Choose well.” He advises. “But know that whatever choice it is you decide to make, I will always protect you.”

_Always, Woonie?_

“Dong Soo already promised that,” she replies half heartily.

“Only half the reason why.” He admits.

She raises a curious eyebrow. “Why half?”

“You’re my former Lord’s daughter. I owe you as much loyalty as the Old Man does. So whatever choice you make in the end, I swear on his and her graves that I will do whatever it takes to make sure no harm comes to you and to those you love.”

“What if I choose to dethrone you?” She whispers. “You won’t be able to protect Baek Dong Soo anymore.”

“But you will. You’ve always protected him. Even when I sought to destroy him, you whole heartily shielded him. I owe you for protecting my heart, Jin Ju. I owe you for championing Baek Dong Soo when I couldn’t- when I didn’t. I owe you as much as I owe him.”

“And if I choose to leave? What will you do then?”

He chuckles lightly. Their eyes still haven’t met, and she knows the green eyed ajusshi is looking on.

“I’ll protect you as my Lord protected Lady Ga Ok.”

“You can’t protect two people at the same time.” She replies.

“I can if I try.” He says. “I can if I try. And I will.”

“And when you can’t?”

He rises and helps her to her feet.

“Then you can protect him. And for the rest of eternity, I will guard you as the shadows guard Heuksa Chorong when night falls.”

And with that, he leaves her, walking away from the stream and onwards towards the path the brown garbed youth took earlier.

When the green eyed ajusshi appears in front of her and bows, she doesn’t seem acknowledge his presence. Instead, she walks the opposite direction of the Sky Lord- towards the hovel she once called home.

_Can you protect us both, Woonie? Can you protect us both, even though your heart lies with Baek Dong Soo?_

As she trudges away, she lightly feels the tips of her fingers, feeling the specks of blood underneath her fingertips.

_Or will you end yourself before it all even begins?_

The green eyes old man trails behind her like a faithful attendant- as if she were a queen.

_Or is this all something completely different?_

She thinks it is, because she remembers a distant day in her memories. A day where she and the current Sky Lord spent two hours digging through Baek Dong Soo’s things. The boy had stolen one of Yeo Woon’s books as a revenge plot- and had promptly forgotten about it. So, as payback of his own, he tied the boy to a pillar in the village square, and went to find his thing. Jin Ju helped.

They were just children. Innocent, wavering children.

_Are you bringing us back to the beginning, Woonie?_

She thinks he is.

_You’re bringing us back to the beginning, Woonie._

Her broken heart doesn’t seem so broken anymore.

*******

**Dong Soo**

Dong Soo and Cho Rip haven’t spoken face to face since Dong Soo came back from his fight with Un-ah. At first, the behavior goes unnoticed by the other habitants of the hovel, but soon enough, the trio begin to feel the palpable tension in the air. Even the Old Mister, who’s visited the hovel thrice in the last two weeks, could see that blood was spilled between both men.

Whether it was real blood or blood of their memories, the others didn’t know. But what they did know was that the event that would shake the kingdom to its very core is going to take place soon- and they can’t have two of the five brothers at arms against each other. Though no swords are brandished from their sheaths and no cruel words are exchanged, the others know that there’s still an outburst waiting to happen.

And it’s unacceptable, thinks Mi So, as they’ve already lost Jin Ju and they can’t bear to lose two more. She tells one of the trio one day, and he passes it on to his brothers. They pass it on to Sa Mo, and then the ajumma, the Old Mister, and even Jin Gi get in on it. They can’ take it anymore- this kind of breakage in their bond is distasteful. They’re a family. A family, albeit being of no blood relation to another, they’re still a family. A makeshift butcher of a father, a nagging caretaker of a mother, a flighty cousin, a helpful uncle, triplets, a bespectacled brother, and finally, the headstrong warrior brother ahead of them all. A family, no matter what anyone said. This kind of tension is damaging, Sa Mo decides. And so they decide to intervene, but to no avail.

And Baek Dong Soo is aware of it all. He can’t read Un-ah, but he can read everyone else. And he knows he should try to mend things with the nobleman, but he can’t bring himself to do it. His thoughts parry over to someone else- someone he should have been paying attention to the beginning.

Jin Ju’s disappeared completely.

At first, when Dong Soo hears of the rumors, he thinks that maybe she’s ridden off to the sunset and will be back shortly. She’s impulsive like that, but not dumb. She’ll be back, he thinks. But he promises himself that the next time he sees her, he’s dragging her back without another word.

But days pass, and he doesn’t catch one glimpse of her in the market. Or at the stables. Or in the forest. It eventually causes him to go question the stableboy, and he too tells her that it’s been a week since he’s last seen her. And suddenly, the Sky Lord, Sa Mo, and even the king leave his thoughts.

Jin Ju is gone, and he wasn’t there to stop her. At first, he thinks there’s foul play, but when he really investigates the situation with the help of some colleagues he’d managed to acquire in the past six months, he realizes that there was no force involved. The woman who lived in the inn for the time being came and went freely, but then one day, she simply upped and left with nothing more than a clothes sack, a sheathed sword, and a box that could’ve either held matches or marbles. The innkeeper didn’t know, and therefore, neither did Dong Soo. But he does remember one thing the old innkeeper told him.

_Her eyes were red, as if she was crying the night before. But she was safe- worn out but safe._

But not safe enough for his liking, and ever since he determined that she truly did disappear voluntarily, he swore on his impending grave that something would be done.

And he’s doing it now. He’s currently trailing the stableboy who was one of the few people Jin Ju most frequently visited with after leaving them.

But what breaks him from his concentration in the end isn’t the boy throwing pebbles at the deer skulking in the forest. It’s the sudden hand that clamps over his mouth. Instantly, he used the back of his sword to push the assailant back, but by the time the sheathed weapon comes down on them, Dong Soo realizes that it isn’t any regular assailant- it’s not even an assailant to begin with.

It’s Yang Cho Rip, and his lips are pressed into a grim line. He’s dressed in plain brown robes, his hair tied back in a ponytail. His spectacles are back as well, and he doesn’t look a damn thing like the nobleman he’s been avoiding these past two weeks. He looks like Yang Cho Rip, the boy he trained with in the mountains. Yang Cho rip, whom he saved from drowning when he was twelve and the latter ten. The same man whom he told Un-ah’s biggest secret to.

They stare at each other for some time afterwards, and Baek Dong Soo knows that by the time the bespectacled man rises from the forest floor, the stableboy is already gone and still pursuing the deer that scuttles around in the surrounding area.

“What are you doing here?” The taller of the two asks, voice even.

“I couldn’t find you in the hovel. Sa Mo said you’ve been disappearing more often these days. At first I thought you were…” He trails off.

Hurt flashes through Dong Soo. “Thought I was what?” He asks evenly, attempting to calm himself.

“What was I supposed to think!?” He exasperates, flailing his hands angrily.

Dong Soo fights the urge to roll his eyes. “How about just doing instead of thinking? How about trusting me? Did that ever cross your mind, Yang Cho Rip?” He deliberately bites back.

“I do.” The younger snaps. “I still do. But you can’t blame me for being suspicious.” He adds weakly, thoroughly flustered.

Dong Soo’s eyes widen, and he begins to understand.

_This is how it ends._

“Fine.” Baek Dong Soo doesn’t have time for this. He’s got two lost friends out there that need to be brought back home. He knows it’s a mistake letting go of Cho Rip as well, but this will have to do.

_I’m weak. I couldn’t keep them around, so I how can I expect to keep you?_

“Think what you have to.” He states firmly. “I have work to do.” He finishes, swiftly turning around and going the direction he had originally planned.

“B-Baek Dong Soo!” He hears in the distance. But he keeps walking, picking up speed as he does so.

His heart clenches at the troubled tone, but he cannot afford to do this now. He needs to bring them back before everything in the palace goes to hell. He won’t have a chance to protect them then. He won’t have a chance to say sorry.

_Before I die, I just want to see you all one more time. You two, Cho Rip, so wait for me._

He nods to himself and keeps moving until he’s running after the stableboy, following the trial he imprinted on the forest floor. But then he feels a familiar object whizz pass his ear.

He goes to grab the thing, but then realizes it’s not aimed at him to begin with. It hits the tree trunk with a thud, and when he turns back to see who it is, he’s flabbergasted.

Yang Cho Rip is stationed upon a flat rock, his arm extended with a bow and a quiver of arrows god knows where he produced from. His spectacles are still on, and he notes the redness trimming his eyes. He’s been crying, but regardless, the aim is perfect. The arrow that hit the trunk didn’t just hit any part- it hit the falling leaf, pinning it to the trunk. How the man could see that far, even Dong Soo couldn’t fathom.

“I used to pinch you on the arm to get your attention when you were sitting.” He hears the other man mouth. “I threw pebbles when you ran away from chores.” He sees him emit a pained laugh. “When did you become so fast Baek Dong Soo, that I can’t even use pebbles anymore?”

A grim shadow falls upon Dong Soo and he yanks the arrow out of the thick trunk. Then, he slumps back against the tree and slides down until his knees are pulled up in front of him. He laughs to himself. “I don’t know.”

They eventually find themselves next to each other, silent and listening to the birds chirping in the trees. The stableboy is long gone by now. The deer was probably caught. Dong Soo sits hugging his knees to his chest, Cho Rip next to him, fiddling with an arrow.

“I trust you.” He hears the man say at first. He doesn’t believe it.

But then, he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve always believed in you. But Un-ah… I don’t trust Un-ah.”

Dong Soo takes a deep breath. “You don’t have to trust him.” He hears himself say. “I trust him- that’s enough for now. I… I won’t hold it against you.”

The other scoffs. “Yes, you do,” he replies scathingly. “I hold myself against it.” He adds thoughtfully.

“What’s the point in telling me now?” he finds himself asking. “It’s all the same in the end.”

_I won’t be able to save him- and you won’t help._

“But it _does_  matter.” The latter retorts vehemently. “I’ve always cared for him- I still do. It’s just that after being done wrong so many times- watching you suffer… I can’t put all my faith in him anymore.”

Dong Soo nods. “I understand.”

“Then… Can we start over?”

Dong Soo blinks. “Start over with what?”

Cho Rip shakes his head dejectedly. “ _This_. All of this. I- I was out of line last time. I didn’t have any right to judge. Whether Un-ah kissed you or not shouldn’t have been the issue at hand- it should’ve been your health. I lost sight of that. I’m sorry.”

Dong Soo nods politely. What could you even say?

“I accept your apology. But I have to go back to work now. Thank you for your honesty, Cho Rip.” He rises to brush the leaves off his trousers.

But the grip on his wrist is strong. “Sit.” He hears. “We need to speak.”

Dong Soo raises his eyebrow questioningly. “What?”

Cho Rip clears his throat. “This area’s been closed off. The stableboy you’ve been following will be momentarily told to get off the road by some police officers.”

Dong Soo scrunches his eyebrows together. “He’s only out hunting.”

“And I needed a place to myself. Sit down, Dong Soo.”

It doesn’t long for him to sense the presence of six or seven other people amongst their midst. At first he assumes its palace guards escorting Cho Rip, but what he doesn’t expect is one of the trio in disguise as well. When he plops down next to them, there’s a collective to understanding that this is meant to be between them and them only.

“What’s going on here?” Dong Soo manages to push Jin Ju to the back of his head, though the inkling of guilt remains heavy in his heart.

“There’s talk of treason at court.” The guard says firmly. “We knew the Defense Minister’s planning something, but something of this magnitude? Not in this lifetime.”

“He seems to think he’s going to make it.” Cho Rip adds.

“He’s building the personal army, we know. But I assumed it was for protection.” Dong Soo replies worriedly.

“Che. The rogue fighters were hired for offensive purposes, not defensive.” He gripes.

Dong Soo’s eyes widen. “No.”

Cho Rip nods his head grimly. “It’s his personal army against the King. The Japanese are in on it as well. Most of his barracks are made of Korean-Japanese mercenaries picked up from the southern tip of kingdoms.”

“They have technicians coming in from Qing as well. Western weaponry is being rumored to be used during the uprising.”

Dong Soo is taken aback. “Western technology?”

“Farther west. We still don’t have an idea of what type of goods they’re smuggling in.”

Dong Soo takes a shaky breath. “There has to be someone else helping him. All these connections- it’s impossible for just one noble to have so much power over so many of groups.”

And that’s when the two sitting around him freeze up. They give each other looks, as if mentally fighting over who should spill the beans.

And that’s when Dong Soo’s heart drops.

“Heuksa Chorong is helping them.”

The other two nod deeply. “But it’s only a rumor.” Cho Rip quickly adds. “But yes, it’s likely that Yeo Woon and his assassins are guiding the Defense Minister.”

“I knew he hated us, but the King too? When will this madness end?” He hears the guard exasperates. “After all this time, you’d expect he would have at least tried to understand the position this country is currently in.”

“Assassin’s aren’t required to understand.”

He doesn’t even know why the words roll out of his mouth, but they do. Cho Rip gazes upon him intently while the guard nods.

But he knows where this is going- and he can’t fight it. Not anymore.

_Our future King’s life is on the line._

“I’ll save them both,” he whispers to himself, but the words don’t go unnoticed by the others.

“How are we going to save the royals and Woonie at the same time?” He lips bitterly. “Last time we tried to talk to him, he had one of his men shoot the Crown Prince with an arrow. If it wasn’t for the jacket underneath, he would have died.”

Dong Soo’s hand lands on the hilt of his sword.

“I’ll do it.” He promises.

“That’s not the point at hand now,” Cho Rip intrudes. “The matter is that there’s an uprising coming, and we have to prepare.”

“Is there no estimate on the date?” He inquires.

The guard shakes his head no. “We can’t pinpoint anything. We were lucky enough to stumble upon this much information. Our only hunch is the meteor hoax you discovered.”

Cho Rip nods. “So we’ll have to go by that. We’ll have to stay on our toes at all times, and as soon as the meteor fires in the sky, we’ll have to do our duty.”

“Protect the Prince.” The guard.

“Protect the King.” Cho Rip.

“Protect the kingdom.” Dong Soo.

_Protect Un-ah._

“Who else knows?”

Cho Rip and the guard give a quick, flitting look around their surroundings. “Only the Old Mister, the rest of the trio, and the Old Mister’s most trusted apprentices.”

Dong Soo raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. If anyone else found out, the word would spread and they’ll either change the date dramatically or do it as early as possible to throw everyone off.”

“It’s only us.” He hears the guard say, a morose touch in his tone. “The lives of our lords are in our hands.” A melancholic chuckle escapes his lips. “To think this is what we dreamed of when we were kids.”

Cho Rip crinkles his nose. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to joke about this with  _our_  children.”

“If we ever get to that stage.” He hears the guard lilt lightly.

Dong Soo smiles along with the other two as the mood further falls into the throes of depression as they recollect on their lives thus far.

_Will I be able to tell my children about you, Un-ah? Will Jin Ju be able to play with my children?_

The guard seems to hear his thoughts. “I always thought Woonie would be the silent but deadly type of uncle. Proper on the outside and then taking my sons to the giaseng houses behind my back when I’m not looking.”

Cho Rip lets his lip quirk into a smile, and Dong Soo’s chest tightens the slightest bit.

Before they disperse a few minutes later, they swear not to speak of this to anyone except the aforementioned others.

As the other two ride off with the Old Mister’s soldiers, Baek Dong soo continues on his trail leading to the stableboy. When he reaches the child, he sees that the bow and arrow are still on his person, but with no deer. He watches the child ready his weapon and shoot the bird encircling the sky above. When it falls to the ground, he hears a hoot of victory and the shuffling of steps as the boy reaches his soon to be dinner. He goes to corner the frenzied chil-

And stops. The heavy, guild ridden hammer comes crashing down ion him as he desperately grabs his chest.

_Jin Ju._

The boy stoops over his prey as dong Soo recedes into the trees, his hand over his clamoring heart.

_I’m so sorry._

After a while, he can no longer hear the boy. He numbly walks back the way he came, and passes the tree where he was leaning back against earlier with two others around him. When he comes to the fork in the path, he realizes that there are three ways for him to go now- home, towards the stable, and to the mountain where his parents were buried. He can go to the stables and await the boy there and finish his intended job. He can go home and forget she ever existed and prepare for the upcoming war and a plan to save his best friend. He can go to his parent’s final resting place and seek counsel.

But it’s a little too late for that. He lets his hands fall limply to his side, and follows the trail leading back to the hovel. He wonders if she’ll ever forgive him.

_I’m sorry._

He thinks not.

*******

**Jin Ju**

Her father notices her before she can even pretend to hide again.

He takes he by the ear and has her sit down in front of a tray full of food that’s recently been prepared. Though it’s set for one, he doesn’t even look at it and instead beckons her to begin eating.

But she doesn’t touch the chopsticks. “Father…”

He cuffs her on the ear. ‘Did I say you could talk?”

She pouts and begins shuffling the vegetables into her mouth. When she realizes the last thing she put in her mouth was herbs, she begins to devour the rest of the meal with rapid consistency. When she’s finished and drunk an entire bottle of rice wine, he looks content. Maybe a little relieved.

“Don’t you want to know where I’ve been?” She asks hesitantly. He shakes his head no.

“I know where you’ve been. I always knew it would come to this.” He shifts his eyes away from her. “Ever since she showed herself to you, I knew.”

She sits up straight and lets a familiar expression take over her. “Then you know that I can’t come back.”

He lets out a pained laugh. “Not even for your old father?”

She lets her face fall. “Father, I ne-“

He turns back to her and puts a withered hand over hers. “It’s OK. I understand. Just… Just make sure you surpass her. Surpass her and become the best they’ve ever seen.”

She nods sadly, tears beginning to leak from her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I should be the one sorry. I should have taken you far, far away. By staying close by, I tempted her to come see you. She could never control her urges- her only vice. That’s why she continued to see the Sword Saint even after she stayed by Cheon’s side.”

“Why didn’t she just leave with him? If she did, maybe-”

_Maybe Omma and Father would have raised me together. And you would have been no where to be found. And the Ajusshi would be alive? Dead?_

She takes a deep breath. “Is the Sword Saint my father?”

The old man looks down on his hand over hers. “I don’t know.” He answers truthfully. “I never asked. She was my Earth Lady, and she was with child. To whom it belonged to, I neither asked nor did I care for. All that mattered to me was that my Lord was with child- and that I’d have to eventually raise it.”

She exhales and feels the lingering pain in her heart begin to escalate. “So you always knew?”

He nods. “She told Cheon she had a mission- a year long mission. I guessed he knew something was wrong, but he never pushed it. With her, he never pushed anything- not after that day when she almost chose the Sword Saint over the guild and over him. He let her go and I escorted her away along wth Ju Jin. After she gave birth, she went back to Heuksa Chorong with him and relieved me of one duty and left me with another.”

Jin Ju smiles sadly. “She always knew she didn’t want me.”

The man squeezes her hand. “She always wanted you- but she also wanted you to live a life free from this, so you wouldn’t have to choose one day. But I failed her.”

She shakes her head. “You didn’t. I… I chose this. I could have said no and come home.”

“But you didn’t.” He finishes for her. “Just like her. In the end, she could never say no to what had to be done.”

He pulls her into a hug that lasts for minutes. By then, they’re not ashamed to let each other see their tears.

“One day.” She promises.

“I’ll be waiting.”

She doesn’t let him see her to the door, because she knows that if he watches her go, he won’t be able to handle it. She helps him wash and put away the dishes and then leaves him to sleep on his bedroll even though it’s barely evening. She slides the door shut behind her and leaves the hovel unnoticed by everyone.

Except the man who happens to be coming in from around the corner.

At first, he doesn’t see her, and she’s as terrified as she is glad. She quickly moves to scuttle out of his sight and far, far away from the hovel that he’s approaching. For a second, she thinks she’s safe and relaxes her muscles, but then she stops.

She makes the mistake of turning around, because then her eyes lock straight into his.

It’s as if time stops, because she swears nothing else moves as they stand frozen in each other’s gaze. He stares at her like he’s seeing a dead person, and she swears he’s become more beautiful and poised in the time she’s been away.

He mouthes something, and that’s when she knows she has to run.

And she does. She quickly turns around and begins to sprint away from the man.

“Jin Ju!”

She hears him call. His voice is pained, broken, relieved, angry- all at the same time. But she doesn’t stop. She keeps running, keeps running until she sees a horse she knows the green eyed Ajusshi- Ju Jin- planted for her. She quickly mounts the animal and they begin galloping away.

“Jin Ju!” She hears the call again.

And that’s the last time she hears Baek Dong Soo’s voice for a very long time.

 


	9. Chapter 9

_ One Month Later _

**Yeo Woon**

“Burn them.”

“That, I cannot, my Lord.”

He smiles softly. “You can. Because you don’t want anything else to remind you of me. Surely, my swords will be enough.”

“She will take over.” Gu Hyang clips. “She who did nothing to earn your position- only born through a failed partnership.”

“And that is destiny. My destiny, and her destiny.”

“And his?” She asks. “What about his destiny?”

“He doesn’t have one. He’s made his own path, and he will continue carving it the way he wants.”

“I will burn them.” She whispers quietly. “Should you not return by dawn.”

“I won’t.” He assures her. “Thank you, Gu Hyang.”

She lets her lips quirk upwards. “My Lord, as calm as the sea, as immovable as Mount Tae.”

He nods and begins to recede from the room.

“As beautiful as the sky’s stars.” She finishes as she lets a single tear fall on the diaries in her hand.

*******

**Dong Soo**

He tentatively closes In’s eyes and doesn’t bother to turn his head when Kenzo ambles towards him.

“You did it this, didn’t you?” He says, rising, but refusing to look the Japanese man in the eye.

“I really admire people like you that know revenge and gratitude are distinct from each other.” He hears him say instead. “However, this kind of realm is built on a stronger foundation- the foundation of strength. Power is the kind of realm you can’t reach if you only have that kind of confiden-”

“You’re wrong,” he cuts in, turning to look him in the eye. “It is not by being strong that you can reach that realm. My realm, my realm makes people stronger in their own way- not in your way.”

Kenzo blinks. “I’m very curious. The situation has already reached this point. How can you hope to solve it?”

“Dong Soo!” The old man next to Dong Soo yells abruptly.

A distant crackling causes his vision to turn towards the night sky. He sees the moonful night brighten with flames in the night.

“I will wait for you.” The Japanese calls before leaving. He doesn’t bother stopping Kenzo from walking away. His heart is frozen. His body is worse.

“Sa Mo,” he begins. Frightened? Worried? Baek Dong Soo doesn’t know. “I don’t want to lose anyone anymore. I will surely protect them using my own hands.” He finishes. The old man understands and nods, letting the younger go.

And then, Baek Dong Soo runs.

_This is the end. This is the end, now and forever. Let me go first, Yeo Woon, Jin Ju. Let me go first, and apologize to my parents for failing their namesake. Let me apologize to the former Earth Lady for failing you, Jin Ju. Let me apologize to Teacher for doing all the wrong things and never being able to properly apologize for them. Let me say sorry to him for not protecting his only daughter. Then, when I’ve finished repenting, I will await for you both, along with your children and your grandchildren and your husband, Jin Ju, and your Lady wife, Yeo Woon. I will wait for you all, and I will welcome you, bowing. Bowing for not being there for you when you needed me most. Thank you, Jin Ju. Thank you, Yeo Woon._

It begins.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

When he sees his childhood friend, his heart clenches. He senses the fear reeking from the man, but without another word, he gains on him while the other mercenaries stand behind him and watch.

He brandishes one sword, but instead of sticking it into his abdomen, he pulls the man into an embrace, though it doesn’t look like such from the mercenraries’ point of view.

“Un-ah.” Cho Rip shudders.

“Don’t move.” He clips in response.

“Why?” He asks weakly.

“Because it’s my destiny.”

And then he plunges the sword into a nonfatal area on his body. Instantly, the younger of the two jerks as the pain begins to wrack throughout his body.

“Don’t move. For god’s sake, don’t move.” The Sky Lord whispers rather harshly in his ear. “I’ll save the Prince. I swear it. For Dong Soo’s sake, I’ll make sure no harms comes to any of them.”

The nobleman clenches his teeth. “How am I supposed to believe you?”

The mercenaries behind him begin to scuttle uncomfortably. Sa Hae, Hong Dae Jo’s son, begins to smile cruelly.

“That’s for you to figure out and decide on. Just… please, don’t move.”

And he digs the blade deeper, and through he knows the pain increases two fold, the damage is still nothing compared to the injuries the formerly bespectacled man used to receive in their days in the camp.

The mercenaries behind him freeze up, as they’ve heard the blade enter further into the nobleman’s body. Some smile, others are a bit disconcerted.

“How will he believe you?” Cho Rip whispers.

Yeo Woon blinks away a lone tear. “Tell him that I love him.” He whispers instead. “Tell him I’ve loved nothing more than I’ve loved him. Tell him that when I’m in the Underworld, I’ll await punishment for my sins against him before I pay for any others. Tell him I’ve never been sorrier for what I’ve done to him, for what I had to put him through. I’m sorry to you as well, as I’ve wronged you as much as I’ve wronged him.”

Cho Rip lets out a shaky breath. Yeo Woon slides the blade out and lets the man before him adjust to the searing pain on his side.

But before Yeo Woon can release him from his embrace, he pulls him closer.

“You’ll tell him, won’t you?” He asks, his voice breaking the tiniest bit.

Cho Rip doesn’t answer and he lets him slide out of his arms. He turns around and leads the mercenaries away, the Minister’s son flanking him on his side.

_So be it then._

Eventually, he’s in front of the Defense Minister and next to Kenzo, ready for the uprising.

“Let it begin,” he hears the Defense Minister say.

And so it does.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Dong Soo**

He passes housing extensions left unguarded and kisaeng corners barren and empty. The lanterns and torches still burn however, thougholy lighting his path as he skids from one street to the next.

But it’s when he sees Hong Do that he stops fully in his tracks and stares aghast.

“Cho Rip!” The call is deep and shrill, and something inside him breaks while another inside chuckles.

_You swore to protect them, yet one already lies dying._

Hong Do senses the distress in his friend. “He was cut by Yeo Woon’s sword.” He says harshly. “He did this.”

You know he would, something whispers inside him. His heart clenches, but his grip on his sword clenches even tighter. “Ye… Yeo Woon.” He breathes.

“I’ll take care of him. You… you just hurry and catch up.” The older man advises. “I saw them headed towards Palace with at least fifty men, the Sky Lord in the lead.”

He goes to speak, but sees his childhood friend stir weakly upon the other man’s shoulder. “Cho-Rip,” he called tentatively, brushing the sweat off his forehead with the brush of his sleeve. “You can’t die, Cho Rip.” He says grimly, Hong Do frowning deeply in return as he watches. “You have to live on. Please, please don’t die. They can’t lose you too. They’ve already lose Yeo Woon, and I’m next. For their sake, you  _can’t_.”

He nods to Hong Do and begins to go the way of the palace entrance when he feels someone weakly call out his name.

He freezes.

“Dong Soo-ah…”

He turns around reaches out to the weakened nobleman in his blooded robe. He blinks away fresh tears and lightly grasps his shoulders and helps Hong Do tighten his hold on him. “It’s OK, he soothes. He’ll take you back to the hove.” He assures. “You’ll be fine.”

_You will live, Cho Rip. You’ll live._

But the injured man doesn’t seem to process those words. He begins to slur incomprehensively. Hong Do blinks in confusion. Dong Soo beckons his ear to the man.

“Yeo… Un-ah.” He hears him whispers. His heart drops.

“I know,” he breathes grimly.

“Yeo… Un-ah,” he hears him repeat. “Yeo… Un-ah.”

Dong Soo shakes his head. “I know.” He repeats. “I… I know.”

When his hand goes to leave his shoulder, he feels the other’s slightly grasp on to his pinky. Dong Soo doesn’t know what to say.

“Yeo Woon.” The weakest of the three utters again. “Dong Soo-ah…”

He gulps and puts his ear to his mouth again and waits for his words.

“Save Woonie… He’s off to die for you.”

Baek Dong Soo doesn’t know if the painter heard, or if the stars heard, or if the birds circling quietly above heard. All he knows is that he’s heard. He’s heard and now he knows. He understands. The man on Hong Do’s back falls into unconsciousness and Hong Do shoos him to go and do his duty to the country. To his Crown Prince.

When he reaches the gates of the palace on a borrowed horse, he ends before a platoon of soldiers poised behind their general. He half bows from his saddle.

“I’m a lowly solider and I wish to report something inside. I would like permission to enter the palace,” he utters as blandly as possible.

The general nods his head dismissively. “No visitors allowed tonight. Go home. The palace is closed to all those but the noble ministers whom the king desires for to enter.”

Dong Soo nods his head and reels the horse back, leaving behind the soldiers. He should have guessed that sneaking around would be the last resort. He ties the horse nearby and makes his way around the edges of the palace’s extended building.

Only to witness dark garbed men with brandished swords and dagger.

For an instant, he lets his eyes frantically give once-overs to all the perpetrators, hoping one of them will be the Sky Lord. But then he realizes that the men aren’t even Heuksa Chorong. Their uniforms are harried with metal shields and their headbands are loose and flimsy and dark red- not at all regally dressed and prepared for battle like the Heuksa Chorong he witnessed in his childhood and the ones who haunted his dreams night and day.

Once- long ago, he thinks- he would have opted for a blunt blade provided by his teacher. But tonight, at the cusp of midnight with nothing but the lanterns burning on their stands, he has no blunt sword to use and no teacher to guide him. He bows, almost respectfully, to the mercenaries and reveals his sword. A simple, iron sword- handmade in the mountains the year before. After years of toiling, this was the fruit of his labor- a sword that swore to protect and serve the people of Joseon in the name of his future king, the Crown Prince.

And so when the blade plunges into the first assassin, he doesn’t blink. He slides it out, parries thrusts to his left, his right, swings to sweep a few more of their feet, and less than a minute later, they’re either dead or dying. He slips his sword back into its scabbard, and swears it’s all in the name of his Prince.

Though, deep down, he knows it isn’t. A distant figure graces the back of his mind as he continues down the road. He eventually reaches the halls leading towards to the East Palace, and to his misfortune, long flanks of hastily dressed mercenaries.

But then he sees him. Long, dark tresses almost to his waist, neatly put back with a small ponytail to keep the locks out of his eyes.

“Un-ah!” He pants. It’s Kenzo who turns around first.

But his head reels when he sees the Sky Lord’s eyes lock with his. His blank, perpetually lifeless visage, and the long, thin scar on his right cheek.

“Stop right there.” He manages to call.

“You managed to arrive quickly.” It’s Kenzo- drawn out and mellow as ever. “But you won’t pass them.”

The flanks of mercenaries all draw their swords. Dong Soo gets his position, and from the corner of his eye, he sees childhood best friend begin to leave.

“Wait for me!” He calls roughly as the man walks away, and he knows he’s heard him, but that doesn’t stop the thinner from moving farther and farther away. By the time he’s gone from his sight, the soldiers charge.

One, two, strike, stab, three, slash, four, five, six, stab, stab, slash, strike, slash. They’re dead or dying at his feet in less than twenty.

“I don’t have time to play with you,” he grits through his teeth. “We need to decide a victor right now.”

The older man looks upon him without any emotion and draws his blade. “That’s what I want.”

Dong Soo moves first, sending the first strike. Their blades connect, and for the shortests of seconds, their gazes lock before they throw each other off their blade locks. They send more stabs, slashes, and parried kicks towards each other, but neither manages to hit the other. The movements continue for hours, leaving both breathless and harsher with their following hits. Soon enough, they’re back where they started and assume their swords positions once more.

“How much do you want him?” The Japanese man asks, absolutely listless in his tone.

Dong Soo doesn’t know if it’s a ploy to throw him off or not. “I’m not here to chat with you.” Kenzo sends a thrust and a slash, and he effectively blocks both hits.

“He almost killed the Defense Minister when he threatened you,” the older man quirks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Perhaps I should have let him. It certainly would have made my life easier.”

“Enough! This needs to end  _now_.”

The Japanese Ambassador blocks another one of his hits. “Surely, you already know of this. I was perhaps a bit surprised when I realized the infamous Sky Lord had a heart, but fellows like you- I suppose it was inevitable.”

Dong Soo doesn’t want to, but he can’t stop himself. “He never lost it to begin with. He’s still my Yeo Woon.” He ensures the other man, and himself.

“I suppose.” The latter lips in conclusion.

They assume their swordsman’s positions again, and this time, Dong Soo decides, this time it willend. When they’re both ample space away from each other, they come rushing at each other.

And his sword does a clean sweep through his abdomen.

“You’re finished.”

“It’s a duel I don’t regret,” the Ambassador admits.

Dong Soo lets the man die in peace and continues on towards the prince’s quarters.

_I’m coming, Yeo Woon._

He can feel tears brush coldy past his cheek as he dashes through the halls and follows the mudcaked footmarks of the mercenaries.

_Wait for me._

*******

**Yeo Woon**

Shortly afterwards, his spy begins to haunt the nephew of Hong Dae Jo while he keenly follows. They nab him at the correct place and take the retreat horn. By then, it seems like things just can’t go any more perfecttly, but then Yeo Woon realizes he won’t live to see this perfection complete itself. He hands the horn to his spy.

“This is the signal to retreat. Blow the horn at dawn.”

The spy nods, though there’s reluctance in his eyes. But this is the end, and there’s no turning back. He nods encouragingly at the older man.

“There’s no one from Heuksa Chorong here but you and I.” The elder comments. “Why is that?”

Yeo Woon chuckles. “Because this ends here. At dawn, it shall be finished. Return to the village as soon as you’ve blown the horn. There will be an ironsmith at the shop by the evergreens, waiting with twin double swords. Take those swords and give them to Gu Hyang to hang on the stands.”

The eder’s face drops. “But they’re not yours. Those are relplicas.” He nods his head grimly. “Only the lord’s swords can be pla-”

“I won’t live to hand them to her.” He cuts in promptly. “And I won’t allow, even in death, for any of you to come retrieve them from the royals, after I’ve passed on. Take the replicas and give them to her. She’ll know immedietly they’re fakes, but she will understand and she will put the swords up. One day, in the near future, shewill hunt the true short swords down and bring them to the altar, but for now, these will make do. She will understand.”

The man bows his head respectfully. “You’re a good king.”

Yeo Woon lips quirk. “I was never king.”

_What is a king without his beloved?_

“But you are,” the latter insists. “You taught assassin’s that hearts matter. Without them, one cannot build a guild- one cannot build an empire, no kingdom, no family. Even in a family of killers, one is still family. And there is no family if there’s no ability to feel. We may be killers to the very end, but we kill to surive for ourselves and for our fellow assassins. It’s one Cheon found but you implemented. You are the truth King of the western guild. Our Sky Lord. Not the blood heir that is to come.”

“But she will b a greater Queen to you than I was ever your Lord. Trust in her the way you trusted me, and you will reap the same fruit. She and I, we’re both the same.”

_And that is why I’m not afraid to leave you, Baek Dong Soo. You are safe. Without me, you are safe. She will love and guard you the way I never could._

He hears a distant rustle in the wind even as they stand inside the small room.

“It has begun. He’s sending the hundred men to the East Palace.” The spy clenches his teeth.

“I shall wait for them. You, you go wait by the ends of the palace.”

The spy bows once more, but this time he drops to his knees.

“To the Lord of the Skies, my allegiance will be to you to the very end.”

Yeo Woon nods and beckons the man to leave first. Then he walks to the East Palace’s courtyard and waits for the army that will kill him to appear.

He’s not afraid anymore, he realizes. He has been, for a very long time. But not any more. Baek Dong Soo is safe, he knows. Kenzo’s sword is nothing compared to him. He’s Baek. Dong. Soo. Nothing can stop him-not even fate.

He smiles a full smile- one that brightens up his entire visage. He looks up into the sky and dreams of a dream when he’s lying underneath the stars with his beloved sleeping next to him. As the wispy clouds roll by, he thinks that perhaps dreams truly are glimpses from heaven.

So let’s get this right, he thinks. Let me get something right, he thinks.

_Let me get this right, and perhaps in heaven, we can sleep beneath the stars together, Baek Dong Soo._

And that’s his last thought as the gate creaks open, and two hundred soldiers pile in to take his life once, and for all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Dong Soo**

Pain lingers in his abused joints and muscles, but he keeps running until he reaches the gate to the Crown Prince’s quarters. The first time he tries to push it open. The second time he uses his sword to bash against the iron. On the third try, he manages to find enough things to leap up and over to get on the other side.

What he finds is a sea of bodies strewn across the courtyard om awkward positions, with a lone soldier standing over on the steps, his sword poised and ready. But when their eyes lock, Baek Dong Soo sighs in relief. They relinquish their weapons back to their scabbards and meet in a hasty hug.

“The Prince, is he inside?”

The guard shakes his head. “The others have taken him off palace grounds. He’s safe.”

Dong Soo nods. But then it comes to him that they’re standing in front of dead bodies of mercenaries. Mercenaries Yeo Woon had been leading.

His eyes widen and he slowly begins to scan the crowd, only to have the young man grasp his shoulders. “He’s not here.”

Dong Soo exhales. “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. We said our goodbyes after he helped the Prince escape.” The oldest guard takes a shaky breath. “We didn’t lose him after all.”

Dong Soo nods, a weary smile playing his lips. But before the guard could open his mouth again, something rattled. And shook, and shuddered, and rattled again. Both sets of eyes turn towards the gate that’s still firmly locked. No one could get into the courtyard unless they were dressed as Dong Soo and only with a sword. But the thump comes again, and again, and again until they find the gates opening forcefully, with the plank of wood breaking at the pressure of whatever was opening the gates.

The Defense Minister’s face is scrunched up in fury. Though he’d known the man for a little time, from his observations and others, it was understood that the man wasn’t the type to reveal his emotions so quickly. But this isn’t the case right now. There’s a glistening of hatred gracing his bulging, pig like eyes, and his fists are balled at his sides. There are fifty or so mercenaries behind him. Dong Soo blinks.

The guard brandishes his sword and Dong Soo follows suit. They get in position as the hours of dueling with the Japanese Ambassador takes a toll on his body as he falters the slightest bit. He feels the guard’s slight nodding behind him. They’ve got each other’s backs.

“The infamous Baek Dong Soo.” The Minister’s words are clipped and harsh. “I should have ended the streak when I still had the chance. It’s a shame, to be honest. Can’t even trust a damned assassin’s guild to do their job properly. And people wonder why this country is systematically going under.”

The guard sneers behind him. “It’s people like you that make troubles worse. But be rest assured, this is the last you’ll ever cause anything like this ever again.”

The older man laughs, and Dong Soo raises his sword just a tad bit higher. “The Sky Lord is no lord. He was supposed to kill you first, Guard, and then the disciple, but he failed to complete both terms. He was supposed to make this easier for me, but I guess we can’t have that these days, can we?” But the older man simply chuckled, his anger receding and beginning to be replaced by something crueler. “That’s why I only hired his services- not Heuksa Chorong. If there’s one traitor, they’re all traitors. So, of course I was bound to hire mercenaries. Damned assassins can’t even follow their own creed- only their leaders. This is why they will fall- this is why when I become King, they will be eradicated and replaced with those who excel at the killing arts. A sham, they are. The Heuksa Chorong of the old is no more- it’s now a bunch of idiots led by a child who prefers to take men into his bed rather than women. A conglomerate of abominations.”

The Defense minister raises his arms, and all fifty or so mercenaries, garbed in steel armor and wielding a myriad of blades, all unsheathed their weaponry.

“But, he has to fall.” The Minister continues. “And as he falls, so will you. You two can continue your little story in the afterlife. Perhaps the gods will be kinder to you there than they ever were here, Swordsman.”

And when his hand comes down, all mercenaries charge towards the two men. Dong Soo’s sword clashes against a middle-aged man yielding a ball and chain. The chain fails to wrap around his foot, but the ball hits his sword, the vibrations of the hit sending him back. The chain comes reeling towards him again, but he avoids the hit once more, this time being the courtesy of the guard who comes between them instead. But the ball comes barraging towards the older man all of a sudden, and Dong Soo only barely helps the guard escape the object.

Ironically, they have a formation. One throws a series of kunai, while the other follows from behind with a spear or a sword. Dong Soo finds himself back-to-back with the guard as the assassin’s begin to erect a circle around them. The guard falters behind him, and Dong Soo sees a lone dagger protruding from his chest. His eyes widen when they lock gazes during a brazen hit from the impostors, but the young man just nods weakly and they’re back to back again against fifty hired killers.

But when two needles embed themselves in the Minister’s neck and send him down to his knees, everyone freezes- even the mercenary who has a sword ready to slice into the guard’s neck. Then twin shuriken lodge themselves in the same mercenary’s throat. They stare dumbfounded as the weapon falls from the man’s hand and clatters to the ground, his body following afterwards.

And now, the minister forgotten and the mercenary’s body ignored, the fifty perpetrators move their heads frantically to see where the mysterious weapons came from.

And when Gu Hyang, clad in a brown uniform emblazoned with Heuksa Chorong’s official seals and no mask, emerges from the shadows, his heart stills. She bransishes a thin sword from her holster. A shrill scream rings through the night, and a mercenary lunges at her, only for three more mysterious blades to embed themselves into vital points ON his body. Dong Soo and the guard stare open mouthed as reams of masked, black robed Heuksa Chorong materialize from the darkness, followed by a youth also clad in brown Heuksa Chorong robes.

The two, now forgotten, watch as the mercenaries yell and run towards the trained killers of the western guild. They’re no longer back to back and encircled by hired killers. They watch, thoroughly shocked, as the guild and the mercenaries clash instead.

Dong Soo catches Gu Hyang’s eyes one more time before he sees her meld into the shadows and take her victims in the darkest, deepest crevices of the crown prince’s courtyard. He nods to the guard, and the two plunge into battle with the assassins, allowing their swords to willingly skid against the others.

Dong Soo kicks, punches, slashes, strikes, and kills numerous rogues before he feels something thread into the cloth of his collar and pull him back. He feels his back press back against firm breasts while a sharp blade pricks into his clavicle. The female assassin’s scent is unmistakable and he freezes as he cannot see her.

“If our Lord does not return by dawn, we will hunt you for the rest of our living days.” The threat is clear, soft, and almost melodic. The scent of her minty breath travels to his nose and sharpens his senses as she presses her bloodied edge digs deeper into his skin and draws a thin line of liquid. “Our Lord lives to protect you, but we live to protect him. Mark these words in your heart forever, Warrior Baek Dong Soo. If he does not return to us by dawn, then as a tribute to his soul, we’re sending you down to the Underworld as well.”

And then he feels himself pushed to the ground, and the woman is gone. The guard rushes towards him. Pulling Dong Soo up, they move aside as the black-robed assassins continue their carnage against the mercenaries. Three mercenaries catch the two men stumbling to a corner and lash out towards them, only to be deflected by the brown garbed youth. Without speaking to either, he takes out the three mercenaries and promptly leaves the two men to be.

The guard shakes his shoulder, but Dong Soo ghosts a hand over the thin cut on his collar.

“Dong Soo-ah!” He calls, and Dong Soo blinks.

“I have to save him.”

“I’ll go with you,” he nods, understanding just who it was they were speaking of, but Dong Soo takes the hands off his shoulders.

“Take the Minister to a secure place. He’s alive, but he will wake soon, even with the needles.”

The guard’s eyes harden but he understands. “Come back alive, Baek Dong Soo.”

“Only if I can bring him back with me.” He admits truthfully. “I came here to die for my Prince.” He utters softly. “And the Prince has been saved. But I…”

“He came here to die for you. He loves you, Dong Soo.” The guard blurts.

And Dong Soo understands. He always understood, and he shakes his nods his head and readies his sword and goes to the one place he knows the uprising is taking a full effect in-

Only to have his arm held on to. He turns around the face the guard one more time. Their eyes lock with each other, and a heavy silence permeates between the two even though the screams of the mercenaries being slaughtered still rings throughout the air.

“He’s in love with you.” The guard says.

“I know.”

And then, Baek Dong Soo runs.

*******

**Yeo Woon**

He doesn’t know what aches more- his legs, or heart. There are light scratches and contusions all over his two lower limbs, but his heart- as the hours pass- clenches and unclenches more than he thinks it ever could. His memories keep flashing back to a distant, young man’s face. Every time he sees a flash, he smiles the slightest bit, and he ends up killing the enemies a tad more ruthlessly than the one before.

_For him. For Dong Soo._

As he parries his strikes, he contemplates on all the choices he’s made thus far in life. All the people he’s hurt, all the lies he told. He wonders if things could have been different- better- if he’d tried to avoid hurting at least one person and told that one truth instead of that one lie. Perhaps then, only then, would Baek Dong Soo acknowledge him as more than just a rival- than just a comrade. Perhaps he’d look at him the way the Gu Hyang looked at him, or the way Ajumma looked at Sa Mo. With love, longing, and respect. And even though competition between them all will forever exist, perhaps Baek Dong Soo would have been a little more lenient. Maybe the nights they spent ceaselessly fighting under Cho Rip’s watchful eye could be spent sitting underneath the buzzing of the cicadas with food and wine between the two as they shooed Cho Rip off. Maybe the swims they used to take in the rivers could have been used more frequently in jest rather than a competition of who could swim the farthest and the fastest. Perhaps, just perhaps, Baek Dong Soo would fall in love with him the way he had fallen for him. Maybe, thinks the Sky Lord, we’d been able to be happy together. Happy. Just happy.

The rogues continue to move in circular motion around him. They come towards him in twos and threes. Jab, slash, strike, spin. Dodge, spin, strike, slash. Repeat.

The first time he realized he was no longer a twelve year old assassin but a _fifteen_  year old assassin was on a too hot day. They were cleaning their clothes in the river, the three of them plus the trio, as a punishment for missing a training session because of oversleeping. Though the Sky Lord had actually been present, he was still punished because he refused to wake his comrades up and take them with him to the training barracks like he was supposed to. So there they were, while the other teenage boys took the afternoon off to visit the market place and flirt with the passing maids and female vendors. He wasn’t particularly interested in the ventures the other boys were enamored with, so he really didn’t complain. His comrades, however, thought differently and whined about their terrible misfortune of not being able to give the maidens flowers and cheap pendants as a token of their undying emotions. And Yeo Woon rolled his eyes and ironically rolled his sleeves up, the other boys took off their top robes and continued to clean the bundles of cloth provided by Sa Mo.

That’s when he saw Baek Dong Soo relieve himself of his cloth, and he instantly rolled his eyes. Baby fat still hung limply from a few places, and more than enough bruises colored his body like he was nothing but a paper canvas. He looked like the dirty, moronic Baek Dong Soo he met three years ago, and so he stayed the dirty, moronic Baek Dong Soo from three years ago. He quietly hummed a tune as he beat a few trousers and helped Cho Rip properly beat his as the sun continued to beat down on them. But still, the Sky Lord refused to strip down to only his trousers and shoes. He didn’t want anyone to see the skin underneath, he knew. There were scars there his father had given him, and no scar earned from any swordfight would ever be able to override the scars his father had given him as a token of his hatred. And so the cleaning continued, and Yeo Woon hummed, and Cho Rip followed Yeo Woon’s lead and cleaned his batch, and the trio laughed while Baek Dong Soo made a fool of himself.

But when one of the trio pushed another into the water, everything took a turn to the flipside. Two trio members, then Dong Soo, then the last of the trio, next Cho Rip, and finally him.

It was Baek Dong Soo’s clumsy hand that pulled him into the rushing, cool embrace of the river water.

When he broke the water surface and took a deep breathe, he expected himself to angrily chastise the other male, but instead found himself staring dumbly. Baek Dong Soo’s hair had fallen out of it’s haphazard knot and his headband lay strewn on a flat stone. He was bobbing in the water, splashing water into Cho Rip’s face as the bespectacled boy howled in jest. One trio member had another trio member in a headlock, while the oldest of the trio lay contently lounging against one of the flat stones, half his body in the water while the other half enjoyed the sun. But Baek Dong Soo was Baek Dong Soo, and he was shirtless and laughing and soaked from head to toe, and before Yeo Woon knew it, he was in a blunderous embrace that was initially meant to dunk his head into the water. But the darker skinned youth just wasn’t strong enough, so he opted to get the Sky Lord into a bumbling hug. And Yeo Woon felt something stir unfomfortably somewhere, and he instantly fished himself out of the river, and stalked back to camp. He stayed out of their way for the rest of the day and evening, attempting to find out the curious magic behind the transformations his body was currently going through, and how, just how, did he suddenly find Baek Dong Soo the most attractive he’d ever laid eyes on when he’d clearly sworn he’d seen better? That night when he was on his bedroll, he punched himself in the stomach and beat his chest roughly, telling them both to shut up and let him sleep because Baek Dong Soo was only Baek Dong Soo and there was nothing special about dirty, moronic idiots named Baek Dong Soo.

He knows he should be more attentive to the issue at hand, but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult as his eyelids become wearier and wearier by the minute, and his childhood memories become clearer and clearer. When a mercenary finally lands a hit, his grip on his swords become stronger and he cuts of the arm and runs his blade through the neck of the perpetrator, blood spraying on his neck. The place of injury, a little underneath his armpit, begins to sting, but his eyes remain focused one the circular ring of blades continuing to stalk him.

He remembers the day he went looking for his messenger bird and found it cooked and a piece of it in his mouth.He’d been angry for a few seconds, but then realized something else was amiss. When Baek Dong Soo passed out on their cot, all lamentations regarding his dead bird left his thoughts. His heart jumped in his throat when the man wouldn’t respond to his shaking, and while he was frantically sifting through the herbs, he felt as if his entire life were flashing before his eyes. The thumping didn’t stop when he slit the arm and sucked the poison from his veins. It became worse as he kept a watchful eye on the flighty male as he slept. When he finally awoke, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. That night, he remembered slipping sleeping herbs into the man’s diluted apricot wine, so he could sleep deeply instead of fitfully. He also remembered telling Cho Rip to move to the other end so he can watch him better. He remembers slipping into the middle and stealthily wrap his arm around Baek Dong Soo’s waist as he slept soundly. He remembers not letting go of his hand through the night.

The lone Chinese assassin is a tad bit more skilled than his Korean-Japanese counterparts. He wields a pair of sai. The first time they flick against his skin, he simply straightens himself out a bit more, and continues his barrage of sword strikes. But when the blades graze against his skin again, he turns his full attention to the thin man and assumes a more regal swordfighting position. Then, their double blades clash.

The memory of the day that were able to light all the beacons is a heartwarming one. It makes his toes curl up when he thinks about it. That smile- that smile that graced Baek Dong Soo’s lips when he made the final beacon come to life- never leaves his thoughts. That graceful, innocent smile. It makes his heart begin to break and mend at the same time. He wants to see that same smile everyday. It’s not soft, or small, or wistful, or respectful. It’s loud, effervescent, determined, happy, beautiful. It’s everything he loves about Baek Dong Soo. Everything.

And when the Chinamen finally manages to lodge the sai into his shoulder, he grunts and send a flying kick into his face. The mercenary regains his composure quickly enough, and begins assuming his position once more, but the Sky Lord is too tired, to sick, too weary, and far too heartbroken to care and he hacks at the impostor like a madman and manges to cut his head clean off his neck and onto the blooded ground below. And he doesn’t care, because there’s no mercy left for him anyway. He can die happy, however. Baek Dong Soo- his Baek Dong Soo- will be safe with her, fed and taken care of, kept away from trouble, and helped. Baek Dong Soo will paint pictures of waterfalls, and children, and other swordsman, and maybe even his birth parents. Baek Dong Soo will live happy, therefore Yeo Woon can die happy.

The sun rises behind him. His skin warms despite the biting cold.

So when another mercenary aims for his heart, instead of feeling the blade enter through his own chest, he feels a clang of two swords. And then there’s a brief silence because Yeo Woon realizes that he’s had his eyes closed for a few seconds while he waited for the blade to end him, and now he’s too afraid to open them.

But when he does, he doesn’t see the numerous dead mercenaries, or Sa Hae. He sees a beautiful pair of dark brown eyes, long brown hair tied clumsily in a bun, and a bloodied and long sword. He sees grace, finesse, tiredness, and humanity. And he sees affection- affection for him, and a smile. A long lingering smile that even causes the Sky Lord to quirk up his lips and gaze.

He sees Baek Dong Soo.

“We haven’t been like this for a long time.”

Yeo Woon blinks. The mercenaries howl and lunge and his arms are on autopilot, but his attention, his attention remains on the man who’s literally jumped in front of a blade for him. A mercenary throws a boomerang, and Yeo Woon hits it away with one of his swords. But he doesn’t see the other boomerang, and it comes spinning towards his neck.

But, again, Baek Dong Soo is ready, because this time he takes Yeo Woon down, allowing the boomerang to hit a mercenary, instantly killing him. He takes a heavy breath as he realizes that the man is shielding him from the hits. Strike, stab, slash, and Bake Dong Soo’s arm is around his waist and it takes a moment for Yeo Woon to process the fact that he’s here to die protecting him. Baek Dong Soo came to die for him.

As  _he_  came to die for him.

He shifts out of his embrace, and allows his shortswords to deflect a parrying hit from one of the mercenaries carrying a dagger. He runs one shortsword through his stomach, and shoves him away before lunging for another. Eventually, the two old friends are back to back against the ever growing number of mercenaries with the Minister’s nephew looking on from afar.

They run, make eye contact, silently beckon each other’s presence, and send jabs and strikes to all the ones opposing them. They create their own formation, their own rhythm. They move in unison, as one, as if not a day had passed from their childhood. As if they’d always been this way- as if this was the way things were supposed to be. Yeo Woon feels like he’s flying, because he’s flying and slashing, and killing, and protecting, and doing everything right and everything wrong at the same time.

When the gunmen line up, they grab human shields and take cover.

“Shoot!”

Yeo Woon feels the bullets enter his human shield, and the impact is enough to make his heart skip a beat. “Now we can finally die,” he wonders out loud, letting a wistful smile grace his smiles.

“Then let’s die together.” Baek Dong Soo replies. It’s a genuine wish, and they nod to each other to acknowledge the statement.

As the gunmen reload, they push each other’s shield away and drop their weapons.

And lock into an embrace. There’s no reason to fight anymore. Yeo Woon hears the Minister’s son guffaw in the background. But they continue to embrace, and Yeo Woon digs his head into the side of Baek Dong Soo’s neck. He’s on his knees with the other man, and their knees dig painfully into the stone beneath them, and Yeo Woon begins to cry, and Dong Soo holds him so close Yeo Woon thinks he’ll suffocate. And he wants to. He wants to die in his arms before the bullets get him, and he tightens his hold around his neck. He smells like sweat, blood, tears, mangoes, and apricot wine, and cinnamon, and so many of the other things he loves to indulge in. The other is tired, weak, and he’s whithering away, but his iron grip around Yeo Woon’s waist is unbreakable, and the Sky Lord breaks out another sob and he doesn’t want to let go. He never wants to let go.

But when the bullets don’t come, he slowly raises their heads to see what’s stopped Sa Hae from ending them. Yeo Woon doesn’t bother wiping his tears away, because he’s not letting go of Baek Dong Soo. He’s not. When his eyes fall upon the scene, he takes a shaky breath.

A series of arrows protrude from the gunmen’s necks. Their guns lie limply next to them. The killer stands a top the wall to their left. A blue and brown bow with crisp white quiver can be seen at their feet, yet they make no effort to pick it up. His eyes jump to the gate again as another platoon of mercenaries rush in, with more swords, spears, and more gunmen. He feels his hold on Dong Soo weaken.

*******

**Dong Soo**

Baek Dong Soo has yet to lay his eyes upon the killer of the gunmen. When more mercenaries rush in, he blinks and holds Yeo Woon closer, but at the same time, grabs his sword, one arm still wrapped around the other’s waist. Then his eyes catch a familiar blue and white uniform.

Only one person in his entire life has ever worn a white and blue robe with a crown pinned into a topknot on their head. As he breaks his embrace with Yeo Woon and struggles to his feet, he rubs his eyes with his free hand. He feels his heart stop when she turns to him.

Standing five feet away from him, holding the sword belonging to the former Sky Lord, is Jin Ju.

—-

The rest goes by in a daze. He sees her brandish her blade from the intricately designed scabbard and begin to cut down all those who came for her. She stumbles, swerves, misses. But then she dives, catches, strikes, and stabs, and slashes, and makes up for every mistake. Dong Soo follows, and Yeo Woon follows, and they fight and fight and fight, until they’re three and in the middle and the mercenaries encircle them like hawks waiting for their pray.

And then another hail of arrows, and he sees an old man emerge from the depths of the shadows from one side, one with eyes so electrically effervescent in the shade of green, that even Dong Soo has to blink a few times. Numerous Heuksa Chorong cloth wearing assassins follow down with him, masked and armed with swords. Two bullets go off, and he turns to the the wall on the other side, and emerging from there is Gu Hyang, followed by the brown garbed youth who holds a rifle in his hand, perfectly perched above the wall. She drops down, and like bees to their queen, so do other black and red robed assassins. They’re also wielding long swords, but Gu Gyang grasps her thin one, bloodied to the hilt, and their eyes meet once.

And he still can’t make himself come to care, and the clashing of swords and the hails of arrows and the sound of bullets hitting men and iron continues to ring throughout the early morning air. He moves around like he’s taught to, but his mind his dead, his heart hollow. Suddenly, everything makes sense. Every damn thing makes sense. Her face, the last time he saw it, haunts him like like a ghost would haunt its killer. His chest hurts, his thighs burn, his hands shake, but he continues to robotically slaughter one mercenary after another. And he can’t help but turn around to look at her again and again, and wonder how in one month’s time she learned how to wield a sword like a killer rather than a protector- and how, just how did she become so much like him?

He fails to have noticed that Jin Gi and Sa Mo have also made their way into the courtyard. And with them is the eldest of the trio whom he’d left behind. The fighting eventually comes to an end as the bodies lay scattered throughout the yard like a morbid present for the king. He feels himself break down, and Sa Mo’d arms are around his waist before his knees can buckle. He feels the guard’s hand check his pulse, and press and prod for any serious injuries. He sees Jin Gi go to his daughter and envelop her into a hug. He sees Gu Hyang bow before her lord and the brown garbed youth place his gun down and bow down with her as the rest of the assassins follow. He sees Yeo Woon nod his head at his people and then collapse, and Dong Soo almost jumps out of Sa Mo and the guard’s holds to run to him- only to stop when he sees that Jin Ju’s caught him. He sees her mouth words to her father, and he nods and turns towards Dong Soo and Sa Mo and the guard and they can barely contain their tears as they see Jin Gi’s hardened face turn towards them. And as the three gather around Dong Soo to help him back to the hovel, he in turn stares ahead.

It’s like a morbid wedding procession. Jin Ju crouches down to her knees, and one of the assassin’s drapes the Sky Lord over her back. And Yeo Woon’s still conscious, Dong Soo knows, because he wraps his arm around her neck as lover would. Dong Soo’s heart begins to crack as she gathers back to her feet.

Her eyes turn to the side, and meet his. They’re wet, but there are no tears. Dong Soo blinks.

And then she begins to walk out of the courtyard with the Sky Lord, the two sets of assassins obediently trailing after them like children after their parents.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Dong Soo**

A horn blows in the distant. He cracks his eyes open to see that he’s still sprawled out in the courtyard with the three men. The short bout of unconcioicne isn’t long, he knows, because he can still smell the heavy stench of blood in the air, and his cheeks and neck are still wet with the dark, thick liquid. He takes long harsh breaths and allows the men to haul him up.

“Go to the Prince.” His voice is weary but firm. “I will be with the king.”

The guard shakes his head. “Let me go with you.”

“No. Take care of the Prince. I will return with the King.”

When they part, they part for good.

—-

The trial takes place almost immediately after. The rat in the Defense Minister’s troupe comes clean and hands over the evidence. Dong Soo lurks around, bloodied and dirty, only to speak to the prince, the guards, and king. Soon enough, he too is on his way from the carnage to his home where the others are anxiously awiting his return.

But when the Queensguard tell him to come thier way and escort him to the Queen’s chambers, he’s flabbergasted and back on his guard. When he’s finally seated before her, his muscles freeze as he realizes just who this person is. He bows to the older woman as fear begins to prickle his senses.

“Welcome, Swordsman.” Her thin voice is almost intisnguishable from any other voice, but there’s something else lacing her voice.

“Your Highness.” He responds calmly.

She chuckles. “Aren’t you going to ask why you’re here?”

“Her Highness can choose for anyone to come and go as she pleases. Her Highness need not explain herself.”

His bland, automatic words allow a smile to fully grace her face. “The Sword Saint’s taught you well then.”

And then, she rises, and almost instantly, Dong Soo closes his eyes and braces himself. Instead of feeling the cold stab of iron on his neck, he feels soft fingers over his cheek. When he opens his eyes again, he feels the woman brush away the dark blood with her bare fingers. After rubbing them clean on a handkerchief, the appendages travel back to his worn face and slowly lift up his chin.

“Powerful and beautiful.” She muses. “I knew your father, you know. A determined fellow, and quite handsome. But not as beautifully made as you. Chiseled like a warrior, as kind as the warm waters of the sea, yet as gentle as a flower over a precipice. Exquisitely made is what you are, Warrior Baek Dong Soo.” She cocks her head to the side and ghosts a finger over his neck. “And exceptionally beautiful.”

She let her hand retreat back to her lap. “Ask me anything you like, Warrior.”

Dong Soo exhales inadubily. “There isn’t anything to ask, Your Highness. I’ll do as you’ll have me.”

He can feel the annoyance building in her, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He swears this was the woman he saw before, back at Hong Dae Jo’s manse, yet she wasn’t dead or dying like he and his son and nephew were. She is a living, breathing traitor. But he can’t say anything because he knows it’ll be his death if he does. And this was a woman- in his mind, he could never stoop as low as to hurt a woman for his own benefit, no matter what the circumstances.

She seems to sense his uneasiness. “Say,” she begins. “I didn’t recognize you at first. A peculiar fellow, you were. Wearing the commoner’s clothes, yet fighting like a true soldier of a rank only befit of the Prince’s guard, or maybe my guard, or even the Kingsguard. Truly impressive. I still berate myself for not making out your identity when I should have. Absolutely unbefit of a queen, don’t you think, Warrior?”

He guards his tongue. “Nothing can mar the Your Highness’s name. It is mineown fault for not having bowed and introduced myself before when I should have.”

She nods, seemingly content with the answer. Then, she shooes her two guards out the door, as well as the handmaidens. Once they’re gone and the sliding door firmly put into place, the woman straightens her back and beckons for him to inch closer. His heart hammers in his chest as he bows deeply once more before mocing closer. But it’s not close enough and the woman sighs. She then moved herself until their knees touch and Dong So couldn’t lift his eyes for his life. He couldn’t

But the woman old enough to be his mother was as eternally graceful and beautiful as she was thirty years before. And she knows he’s uncomfortable being so close, but she’s his Queen. And he knows she knows. And he also knows that she’s using her power to keep in his place.

And so he sits silently, with his head bowed and his heart racing.

“So tell me, Warrior. Since you’ve done this kingdom-  _your_  kingdom- such a favor, what shall I grant you? I know the Prince’s guards have vied for immunity regarding your adopted father and that former agent of Heuksa Chorong. The King has given, if not imposed, to you a position at court, yes? And the Prince trusts you with his life, as do the others. So they’ve all given their dues. But, is there anything else you seek, Warrior? Anything… _anyone_  in particular?”

He looks down to his knees and shakes his head. “As long as my King, Queen, and Prince are safe- that is enough for me. That is all I seek.”

A look of pity graces her features before it’s replaced with her smile. “A shame.” She tuts. Then she reaches out and pulls his chin up again. “Are you sure, Warrior? Is there nothing out there you wish to do? Surely, you’ve tired of this job of having to run around and protect the very people who had your father killed- the very king who shamed your dying clan. Perhaps you’d like to paint. In Qing? Japan? Farther West? Don’t think that I don’t know how humanity works, Warrior. I, too, am human, and I have hated, shunned, cursed, destroyed, and lost just as much as you have. You remind me of myself, Warrior, but unlike you, I was never given a chance to be freed of my birth. You, you have a chance to be free. I  _want_  to set you free.” There’s a wistful quirk of her lips.

“I am free” he breathes. “I am free to protect the Prince, Your Highness. There’s nothing else I desire.”

“So there’s no one out there you desire to be with?” She asks. “No woman out there who you cannot hope to be with? A noblewoman? A kiaseng? _A man_? Ask, and I shall have every law lifted you and your lover made the exceptions.”

He shakes his head, and the shock of her words further cruicfy his senses as he struggles to reply. “Your Highness need not trouble yourself over such trivial matters. I… I am content. I am alive. I will rest easy.” And she knows he’s lying as much as he knows he’s lying. And the expression of pity returns, but this time it stays.

She exales softly. “To be expected from the Sword Saint’s disciple. Put everyone else above thy own self. A truly selfless gesture.” Dong Soo’s eyes meet hers and raises her hand to caress the discolored skin of his upper left cheek. “But what is to be done in regards to him? I cannot just let you run around, putting your life on the line for everyone if _he’s_  the one who’s judging in the end.”

He knows exactly who she speaks of, but he doesn’t have the strength left in him to utter his name. His eyes fall to his lap and he wills the tears to stave themselves off.

She raises his chin again for a third time. “Tell me what I should do to keep you safe, Warrior, for my kingdom is not safe unless you are safe. I will be honest. I had it in my mind that you would die fighting the mercenaries, and at least I’d been able to give you a proper burial and lessen the rage that would be released upon this crumbling kingdom after your passing. But then I realized he came to die for you as you came to die for the Prince, and I couldn’t fathom for my life what the gods had in mind when he created you two and left you to wander without any true guidance. And I cursed myself, my family, and the rest for leaving me with no choice- no hope to save my family and my kingdom.”

“I tried to find a way to rectify what went wrong, Warrior, but I could do nothing to stop him. I couldn’t even confront him. I knew, when we spoke, that he would do something drastic, but to actually go on a suicide mission? Not in my wildest dreams. And yet he did. So I had no choice to request another mission for Heuksa Chorong- the other Heuksa Chorong.”

_The other Heuksa Chorong._

Dong Soo’s eyes widen.

_Jin Ju._

The Queen retreats her hand. She brushes away nonexistent dirt from her lap. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of trouble I had to go through to find deceased Sky and Earth’s lords only spawn. A cunning woman, you see. I had to be blindfolded and then brought to their hideout. You wouldn’t believe my expression when I saw her. A complete copy of her mother- down to the bloodlust and determination in her eyes. A Queen of the Underworld, as I the Queen of the world above. We sat on equal ground, but I was the imposter, and so I had to speak quickly and make my claim before everything came to end. I offered her all the gold in my possession, and yet she turned me away. And while I sat watching the torches move across the courtyards last night, I accepted defeat as Hong Dae Jo’s uprising killed a Lord who could help rebuild my kingdom, a Warrior, and the kingdom itself. I knew it would fail, but now I would be losing much more than I bargained. A poor move on my part, but the new Earth Lord helped correct my wrong. She came, and the Sky Lord’s followers came on their own by disregarding his orders. Everything went better than expected, yet a failed uprising is a failed uprising, but at least the Sky Lord lives so he can aid me.”

Loathing for the older woman builds in her heart, yet he cannot hate her.

_Because she helped save Yeo Woon. She helped make sure he could live._

She cocks her head to the side again. “And now I’m back to the same square I was when I first spoke to him, face to face. I asked for your head as to test him. He told me you were his everything. Meaning, if anything ever happened to you, he wouldn’t stop to destroy everything in his path to avenge your death. I know a monster when I see one, Warrior, and the Sky Lord may just be the most beautiful one I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“He’s not a monster.” He retorts calmly, though rage boils inside him like a poison. “You Highness.” He bows weakly.

She smirks. “Not to you, of course. But that’s fine. The matter at hand is your life. You will always be the anchor that he holds over my head. I mean, I can simply  _give_  you to him. Offer you up as a consort, solidify a close relationship, and rid Joseon of all the defectors and foreign powers wishing to invade our lands.”

“I can protect myself, Your Highness. And I live to protect my Prince.”

“Yet you cannot seem to understand that the Sky Lord would rather have you somewhere locked away and safe rather than risking your life on a daily basis against those who wish to harm the heir. Like myself, of course. Quite the dilemma, isn’t it? Maybe if you go off to paint in some far away land, you can save everyone the trouble of having to wonder whether or not you’ve died by a rogue’s sword. Or perhaps marry a yangban girl, as your status is already as high as the other royal soldiers, and live a quaint life in the courts. But to put your life on the line, Warrior Baek Dong Soo- that’s my kindgom that will have to suffer if you suffer.”

He lets out a harsh smile, and suddenly, bitterness rises in his throat against the man he’d called friend all these years. “Does he think me a trinket to be locked away then, Your Highness? One that can easily break? Am I an object, my Queen, that I cannot guard mine own self?”

“That’s for you to decide, Warrior. But know this now- the Sky Lord and the Earth Lord are one now.”

Dong Soo’s eyes water again, but he balls his hands into fists and keep the salty drops from dropping.

_They’re one. They’re together. They’re Earth and Sky._

 “Yet the Sky Lord cannot help but love you deeply. And the Earth Lord- I’ve heard of her exploits regarding you. She seems to be on the same page as him. You have no way of escaping their embrace. They will forever haunt you like the shadows you never wanted. But you have a choice, Warrior. Choose to leave or to stay, it matters not. But give up your sword. Give up being Warrior and the Sword Saint’s chosen disciple, and you can save us all a century’s worth of suffering.”

He takes a moment to understand her words and her intentions. In the end, no matter which way he looks at it, he knows that the woman before him speaks on behalf of the brittling kingdom of Joseon- the same Joseon that the former Prince Sado had tried to mend and died trying in the process. Though her methods were crueller and far more far fetch than his, it still totaled out to the same truth- all for the sake of Joseon.

If he gave up his sword and took up his paintbrush for the rest of his life, he could save Yeo Woon’s wrath from ever being unleashed. If he married a yanbang, he’d be pulled into a world lashisness and ebauchery and swayed from his duties as a swordsman in less than ten years time. If he gave up his sword and allowed himself to literally be sold to the assassin’s guild, he could live out the rest of his days as perhaps the new assassin’s mentor, or maybe an ironsmith, or Yeo Woon’s bedwarmer, or locked away like the Queen said he probably would be.

But then he realizes, as he looks into the woman’s deep brown eyes, that she’s wrong. Nothing would ever stop him from being attatcked- from being haunted. He could leave his life as a swordsman behind, and he’d still have to live in fear as rogues from near and far came to kill him for their own sick glory. And he knows the Yeo Woon he’s known to care for and respect would never let him live his life as a caged bird. He could have crippled him when Kenzo hurt him and kept him locked away in those beautiful chambers in Heuksa Chorong for the rest of his life. But he didn’t, and he wouldn’t start now.

_We promised to die together. We’re to live our lives, Yeo Woon. We’re to live our lives, and then we’re to die together._

His Yeo Woon would always protect him and vice versa- but he’s never impose on Dong Soo’s ability to live and protect the prince, the trio, Sa Mo, and the rest. If he did, then he’d stop being his Yeo Woon. And then, they’d truly become enemies.

But he’ll leave the Queen to her assumptions. “I choose to be here, Your Highness. I choose to protect the crown prince and future king. I swear to be help protect and rebuild the kingdom you’re ready to give your everything for.”

And that’s the end of it.

“Very well then. You can leave, Warrior.”

He doesn’t wait for anything else. He bows, rises to his feet, rises again, and turns around and starts to the door.

“Just remember,” he hears. “You had a choice. I could have freed you.”

_No. You’d have had me imprisoned._

He nods and slides the door open. When he steps out, he slides the door close again. Then, he makes his way home.

——

When he reaches the hovel, he’s ensnared into a hug by Ji Sun. He returns the gesture, thankful to feel another living, breathing body against his. When they part, he begins to cry. She soothes his agony by pressing a kiss to his cheek and leading him inside.

He sees Cho Rip awake and holding Mi So’s hands. Hong Do helps lead away the women, and the two men sit silently together, letting unspoken swords speak for them. Dong Soo grabs a hold of hold of the man’s hands, and Cho Rip squeezes in return. When Cho Rip’s head shifts ever so slightly, as if questioning him, Dong Soo nods his head and lets a sad smile grace his lips as the tears continue to fall freely down his cheeks. They’ve all survived, and their grasps on their hands tighten and both wish a certain other could join them in their comfortable silence.

The execution takes place a few days later. By then, both Cho Rip and Dong Soo are fully mobile. Sa Mo and Jin Gi reveal the truth about Jin Ju to the rest while Dong Soo slips away to attend the beheading. Everyone is beyond shocked except Cho Rip, who joins Dong Soo at the beheading before it can take place. They stand together and let their grim expressions speak for themselves as Hong Dae Jo and his son pay their dues.

A few weeks later, Sa Mo and the Ajumma are already married and in their own little honeymoon up in the mountains, and the trio, Cho Rip, Mi So, Dong Soo, Hong Do and Ji Sun are left alone to their own devices. The initial shock of the revelation has seemingly worn off by then, and they resume their to their drinking and feasting and counting their good lucks. Mi So teases Ji Sun about Dong Soo, and two of the trio instantly jump at the chance to pester him. He plays along with them, but the eldest of the trio and Cho Rip share silent, knowing looks with him that tell him that they understand. They know.

And the laughing, and the jesting, and the talking continues to permeate throughout the air. And finally, when it’s time to retreat to their respective homes, the trio, Cho Rip, and Hong Do laugh it off and pile into the empty hovel rooms one by one. Dong Soo is the last one to retreat into his room.

—-

The room is bare save for three dimly lit iron lamps and the bedroll. All his things are already packed and off to the palace. His art supplies are also no where to be found, most likely whisked away by Hong Do and Cho Rip to be thrown away and replaced with state of the art equipment. His paintings are still adorning the hovel however. Those are the only things he refuses to take with him.

He kneels down next to the bedroll and takes a deep breathe before reaching into his robe. Gently, he produces the one painting he swears he should have burned the second he finished it. When he unfolds the thin paper, the twin thrones stare back at him. They taunt him, tell him that despite succeeding, he still managed to fail.

One for Jin Ju, one for Yeo Woon.

Twin thrones of hell. A hell he could have avoided had he just been there for them. Had he gotten over his on shortlived stupidity, maybe things wouldn’t be as direly morbid as it is now. Maybe the thrones he drew, entwined together with vines, would actually mean something good to him. But, instead, they symbolize all his shortcomings. His hatred, his anger. His loss.

He goes to crumble the rice pape-

Only to have a firm hand grasp his wrist. Baek Dong Soo blinks.

He’d known the thinner of the two was stalking the hovel and its inhabitants for the past few days, news courtesy of Mi So who constantly swore she saw him trailing behind Sa Mo one evening and Ji Sun the next morning. But he never bothered asking, because he knows it’s true.

The hand lets go of his wrist and gently takes the painting from him.

He doesn’t want to look at his face. Doesn’t want him to see the expression of hurt that pulses through his person. Doesn’t want him to pity him, because he knows he does. Dong Soo can’t take that kind of treatment anymore- not after all that’s happened. He should be the last one to be pitied, respected, and loved. I should be loathed, he gripes with himself.

_I should be killed. I don’t deserve any of them._

The hand brushes against the small of his back. Fingers travel the length of his neck until they softly push aside strands of his hair that have fallen out of its knot. Then the hand travels to his shoulder and lingers. He doesn’t bother asking to remove it.

“It was her own choice.” The shorter of the two says kindly. “Don’t blame yourself for circumstances that you had no control over.”

_Liar._

But he doesn’t say it, because he knows it will only make matters worse. “Won’t she reconsider?” He asks weakly.

The hand on his shoulder briefly shifts, and he knows the answer is no.

_Jin Ju-ah, won’t you come back?_

“We’ll always be around,” he reassures. “Always.”

“But she won’t be Jin Ju anymore,” he whispers, silent tears beginning to fall.

The hand squeezes his shoulder. “Am I not still your Un-ah?” He chides. “Even though I am Sky Lord?” Dong Soo shifts uncomfortably. “I am, am I not?” He insists.

Dong Soo nods his head firmly, taking a shaky.

“Then she is still your Jin Ju. She will always be your Jin Ju. It’s just that now, she is my Earth Lord, and I her Sky Lord. I was fated into this life- she chose it.”

The thought brings another wave of sadness over him, and this time he can’t help but let his shoulder shake with the next stream of tears.

And Yeo Woon’s hand isn’t there anymore, and he feels a of deep black present itself before him. Rough, pale hands grab his chin and pull him closer to the figure in front him.

“But this is no longer my curse.” He whispers. “This is my salvation. It took me twelve years to realize this fact.” The shorter man brushes a finger over his cheek. His eyes begin to dry, his mouth stands agape.

“You helped me find my freedom.” the thinner whispers, his eyes gazing upon him with awe. Confusion graces Baek Dong Soo’s face. He doesn’t know what’s awesome in his visage- doesn’t know what it is that the man in front of him finds so intriguing about him.

“And you helped her find hers. Imagine the things she can do with all this power, all this knowledge at her feet. She’ll be able to aid you in whichever way you need. We both have so much at our disposal- and you have us at your disposal. And don’t ever think we’ll ask you if you need help- we’ll simply give. And continue to give. Give you everything you’ve given us.”

Dong Soo’s breath hitches. “But I’ve given you nothing.” He insists. “I’ve given you both nothing but pain and more misery.” He’s so ashamed he can’t even look him anymore and drops his eyes to the tatami beneath his knees. He breathes a broken sob.

But when the lips press against his, he doesn’t pull back. He doesn’t kiss back. He lets the delicate buds linger over his own, lets the firm hands grasp his chin.

He sits frozen in his place. The lips come off and find themselves on his cheek. He feels them come over the streaks left by the tears. He feels another one begin to roll down, but it never makes it to the mat below. Instead, the other man drinks the tiny droplet, the moist warmth of his buds pressing against his wet cheek.

He blinks.

Then he feels the the buds leave his face and the hands move way. He feels cold, all of a sudden. The floor beneath is warm, the coals underneath doing their job, but he feels cold nonetheless. He feels hollow. Until the man in front of him lifts his chin to have him look into his eyes. Dong Soo does.

And all he sees is love. Pure and unadulterated love. The thinner’s eyes glisten with moisture, but not of hatred- not of loathing, or sadness, or pain.

They flicker with love.

_For me. You love me._

He’s known from the very beginning. He’s loved him as well, but was his love as deep and unmarred as this love?

_Do I love you the way you love me, Un-ah?_

A weary smiles comes to the other’s lips, and Dong Soo’s heart skips a beat. Dong Soo can only sit as the other pulls him into an embrace. He feels the latter wrap arms around his waist and pull him closer- feels him silently shed tears into the crook of his neck.

“You’ve given us- _me_ \- everything, Baek Dong Soo.” The shorter of the two insists, snuggling into his neck. “Everything. Without you, I would be nothing. And you- you made me something. You made me something, and then, you became my everything.”

_Un-ah._

He allows his hands to travel to other’s hips. Tentatively, he places them on the sides. Un-ah’s arms tighten around him, and Dong Soo feels something burst in his chest. Dong Soo’s arms leave his hips and travel to his shoulder blades. He urges the man to leave the crook of his neck. He immediately does so, but Baek Dong Soo doesn’t allow him to remove the arms around his waist.

Instead, he presses a soft kiss to his lips. His rose red lips, as soft as silk and as moist as the flowers at the break of dawn. Dong Soo’s eyes slip close as he pushes into the embrace, his chest brushing dangerously close to the Sky Lord’s. When the fabric of their robes finally sweep against each other in the heat, he feels one arm leave his waist and the other tighten the hold even more.

Their lips part. As he attempts to regain his breathe, he feels a warm hand travel to the base of his neck, and upwards. He feels it stop at the hairtie that keeps his bangs from running loose.

He nods without looking him in the eye- urges him to pull the hairtie loose and release his locks from their confinement. And Yeo Woon understands, because seconds later, the hairtie comes undone and Baek Dong Soo feels his hair cascade down his shoulders and back.

And then he feels thin fingers begin to caress and loosen the strands. He lets out a shaky breathe he didn’t know he was holding, and inches closer to the touch. As the hand continues to work on his tresses, he lets his own hands travel the length of the Sky Lord’s chest. His hands brush over the official robes. Lets his fingers thumb over the crests, the symbols, the gold threaded into the cloth. He eyes the neckline and hesitatingly allows his fingertips to lightly touch the pale white skin peeking out from underneath the rich cloth.

He doesn’t notice the hand leave his hair. Mesmerized, he only stares at the hint of the alabaster skin on the base of his clavicle.

Then the arms leave him completely, and instead grab his hand. Dong Soo looks up surprised.

Instead of seeing eyes filled with distaste, he sees a playful smile on the thinner’s lips. He lightly kisses his fingers and leads it to the tied cloth strips holding his robes in place.

And suddenly Dong Soo is terrified.

But another kiss to his hand eases the worries, and the man quietly tugs at Dong Soo’s fingers. He acquiesces and allows both his hands to begin to untie and push apart the cloth covering the man before him.

After the first few knots are undone, Dong Soo brushes the cloth aside to reveal pale blue underclothes loosely fitting his body. He inches closer, their knees touching, and begins to kiss the pale neck. His hands stroke the pink nubs hardening underneath his touch, his lips beginning to lightly make their way up. He nibbles on the soft ear, eliciting a breathy sigh from the latter who suddenly pushes him back. Dong Soo’s heart skips a beat, but then regains composure when he sees the man tug at his knees.

He stretches his legs out, only to find the Sky Lord grasp his ankle and draw him in. He flails dazedly as he watches the man hoist his thighs up and wrap him around his waist, effectively pulling him into his lap. Dong Soo is flabbergasted, as the man is half a foot shorter and probably weighed much, much less than him. But the grip around his waist and his thighs is strong, and feels himself being pulled closer to the other’s soft flesh. Dong Soo sighs contently and begins his ministrations again. He runs his hands on the hardened back of the younger man while running his lips up and down his neck. He takes long, deep breaths, as to take in the scent of the warm skin and the inky black hair that cascades down the other’s chest and back like a royal cloak.

He allows his hands to lead down to the last of the tie that keeps the other’s underclothes on him. He places a soft kiss on the man’s cheek before allowing his fingers to travel to the last knot. He pulls the cloth gently and it comes undone. When he finishes, he helps push the draping piece of fabric to the mat beneath.

And Dong Soo freezes.

The sight before him is a mixture of awe and horror. The pale skin once beneath the throes of warm, rich cloth is marred with various cuts and scars. Nothing as extensive and deep as some of the ones Baek Dong Soo managed to acquire through his own carelessness, but strikingly alluring nonetheless. He feels tears spring from his eyes when his vision travels back to the latter’s face and catches the long scar traveling slantingly on the upper side of his cheek. His heart does a double take, and he collapses in his embrace.

He doesn’t even fully recall why he did it. He knew he’d never be able to defeat him at the docks, but he did it anyway. He could have taken Ji Sun and ran, and he knew the man would have let them off because he could. And he would, because he loved Baek Dong Soo.

_I did it out of spite._

He buries his head in his bare chest, breathing in the fresh scent of his skin- only to feel hands gently pushing him away.

And on to the bedroll. Dong Soo crawls back, and lets the long, adept hands deftly push him into the cushioned roll underneath. When his head hits the pillow beneath, he feels an urge to close his eyes- and he does. When he does, he feels a pair of lips latch on to his throat, beginning to brush butterfly kisses as they travel the base of his neckline. He feels his hands thread into the silky smooth hair belonging to the shorter man as the latter’s caress his stomach and hips.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees the usually blank eyes stare intently back at him, lips pressed into a firm line and both hands off Dong Soo. There’s a single crease in his forehead, one that signals that he’s waiting. Asking him for permission.

_Asking if I love him the way he loves him._

Then the lips break formation, and a soft smile graces his lips. The crease in his forehead disappears, and a relaxed hand lovingly brushes over his cheek, telling him it’s OK. This is fine. All of this enough. He sees the man begin to sit up properly and promptly grasps his wrist.

Only to pull him into a kiss.

This one lasts longer the one before. This time, Dong Soo’s lips are battling for dominance, only to falter and give out when a hand ghosts over his right thigh.

He tastes like honey and sweets. Water and earth. Beauty and bountifulness.

He feels the pit of his stomach begin to burn, his hands roaming the sculpted back of the other. His toes begin to curl into the sheets when he feels deft hands undo the clasps holding his sky blue robes in place. His nails begin to dig deeper into his shoulder blades when he feels the kiss stealing his breath, his heart, his life.

When the Sky Lord pulls away, he whimpers. His glassy eyes gaze up at the man above him.

And there’s the look seeking permission again, but this time, Dong Soo only stares. He pushes his head up and pulls the latter’s head down, meeting halfway in a haphhazard kiss that leaves them both a little confused. His head falls back and he looks up at the man above him, the man with only one reason to destroy- only to protect.

_Me._

He carefully strokes the latter’s cheek.

_Do I love you the way you love me, Un-ah?_

The other nuzzles into his touch, silently shifting his eyes closed. When he does, another burst of affection burns through his person. He gulps down the fear beginning to bubble at his throat, and pulls the man closer. He nudges for him to open his eyes, and when he does, all he sees is wet, wet eyes brimming with affection and apologies and tears for things Dong Soo wishes never occurred.

And then he feels his own hands beginning to undo the rest of the clasps on his robes. He tugs himself free, and finds that now both are bare wait up. Two scarred bodies. Both scathed in the name of protecting the other. Dong Soo feels slightly ashamed of his own, which also includes scars from carelessness. But when he sees the light glisten in the latter’s eyes, he quietly tucks away his insecurities.

_Do I love you the way you love me?_

He pulls the man closer, until their noses are inches from each other. Then, on impulse, he lets his hands go to the space inches above the latter’s waistband. He pulls him closer, carefully arranging his knees apart, as to let the latter nestle between him.

_Do I, Un-ah?_

A nimble hands caresses Dong Soo’s cheek, and finally, Dong Soo lets out a light smile. A smile that tells the latter it’s OK. It’s a yes. It’s everything that he’s never dreamed of, but wishes he had.

_Do I love you the way you love me, Un-ah?_

The latter presses a chaste kiss to his lips before latching on to his throat again. This time the other’s hands tug gently on the drawstring of his trousers.

_Do I love you the way you love me?_

When the string is undone and he’s fully unclothed underneath the other man, he contemplates on his life and his choices.

_Do I?_

When a hand ghosts over his scar beneath his belly button, he knows his answer.

_Hey, Un-ah._

“Hey, Un-ah.” He breathes.

The latter shifts his head contemplatively to the side. Baek Dong Soo only smiles.

“I think-”

_I know._

He doesn’t finish because pink lips press against him again while the latter’s trousers come undone and they’re both exposed and flush before each other.

“I know.” He corrects himself, when the kiss breaks.

“Know what?” The latter asks, his voice heartbreakingly soft and gentle.

“I love you.”

Yeo Woon pulls him into an embrace- his long, silky black hair splaying over Dong Soo’s chest like ink on ricepaper. The swordaman sighs wistfully, and lets his limbs wrap around the other’s waist while his fingers run up and down the long and iron strong arms. The nimble fingers of the shorter of the two begin to prods and caress Dong Soo in places he’s never imagined could hold so much secret pleasure. He gasps when stings of pain travel of his spine when digits gently enter his person, but relaxes into the movement when he realizes they’re both holding on to each other for dear life and that the latter is as frightened as he is. Dong Soo allows his fingers to weave into the satin soft mane, as another hand presses against his lover’s back, coaxing him closer.

When Yeo Woon finally raises Dong Soo’s hips to join them as one, their lips meet one more time in a kiss that seals more than just their hearts together.

And he beckons into his touch.

_I love you._

\---

The pain is unbearable at first. When tears break out, they stop, let go, ramble apologies back and forth, and hug. Then they try again, and this time, they’re smiling hesitantly. They fumble here and there, but finally manage to get it right.

When Dong Soo feels the man fully sheathed inside of him, he lets out a sigh he didn’t think he was holding. Systematically, a rhythm builds between them as he feels himself being fulfilled after every gentle pus. Soon, the movements become frantic, almost inhuman as they build up speed, and he’s more desperate than ever as his nails leave furrowing marks down the lighter’s back. When Dong Soo feels the burning in his loins reach its peak, his hands find themselves intertwined with the other’s. They finish together, spent and shaking and wishing the feeling to never end.

They lie in a tangle of limbs afterwards, Dong Soo shivering contently as he buries his head in the other’s hair. After a few moments, the Sky Lord helps him to slip underneath the comforter as the chill in the room increases. He nods and carefully shifts over, as not to elevate the dull throbbing he feels in his spine and in between his thighs when he moves around too much. The shorter man snuffs the lamps and then slips underneath beside him again. His fingers go to Dong Soo’s head and begin threading into the moist locks that lay strewn across the pillow.

He feels the deft hands move to his shoulder and neck. As the hands loosen the tension there, Dong Soo caresses his stomach in return. The tingling in his belly brings ghost smiles upon, further silencing the dull pain in between his legs. Soon, Yeo Woon’s hand places itself over his own, and he finds himself pulled in by the shorter man, their cooled skin pressed together. Their hands entwine once more, and he feels a fresh kiss to his neck before the man cocoons him from behind.

And Dong Soo knows this is the first and last time this will ever happen.

“You won’t come back.” He mutters to himself. The hand over his pulls him closer in response. “Does Jin Ju know you’re here?”

He nods into the crook of his neck, and fresh tears spring from Dong Soo’s eyes.

“We can never be like this again.” He feels like he’s repeating himself.

“I’ll always be next to you.” The man holding him replies.

Dong Soo takes a shaky breath. “Yet we can’t be together.”

“Everything has it’s price.” The other replies. “Even us.”

“Is Jin Ju’s price her inability to see me?”

“Jin Ju’s price is the biggest. I get to have this night, at least. She-” The latter pauses.

And Dong Soo already knows the answer.

“She loves me.”

The Sky Lord doesn’t answer.

“I love her as well.” He adds.

The shorter man nuzzles closer into his neck. “I know.”

“But not the way I love you.” He adds weakly.

Yeo Woon knows. Jin Ju knows. And now Baek Dong Soo knows.

“I love you.” He repeats. “Will you love me twenty years from now? Love me the way Teacher loved the Earth Lord- up until the moment he died?”

“Till we walk together in the Underworld, hand in hand. And beyond that.”

“But we can’t be together.” Baek Dong Soo turns around and pulls the thinner man into a hug.

“If I don’t wield my sword, I can’t protect you. But when I wield my sword, I can’t embrace you.”¹

The latter whispers, succumbing to the crushing embrace. Un-ah breathes into his hair. “I’d rather stop embracing you than stop protecting you. I will never give up on you, Baek Dong Soo. Not in this life- not in the next.”

 

For the rest of the rest, they stay wrapped in each other’s arms- both occasionally breaking into tears. He kisses the thinner man’s face, runs his lips over the scar on his cheekbone. He in turn lets the man thumb over the ugly scar beneath his bellybutton- lets him sing short songs into his ear when their sobs become exceptionally heartbreaking.

When Baek Dong Soo wakes the next morning, his clothes are folded next to the bedroll while the painting sits contently underneath his sword. And his Yeo Woon is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Quote from a Bleach by Tite Kubo.


	13. Epilogue

The official coronation takes places the following month. By then, Baek Dong Soo, Heuk Sa Mo, and Ji Sun are all members of the King’s personal court- Baek Dong Soo already a general within the ranks, even though he was enlisted less than a month ago. The King, at the tender age of eighteen, takes regular lessons with the Sword Saint’s disciple. Heuk Sa Mo now runs a bigger, better butcher shop closer to the palace and regularly trains the homeless, young lads who wish to serve in the King’s court in the future (at the begrudging tone of his darling wife, of course).

The trio like to train in the mornings with Dong Soo and the king and then perform their guard duties when Dong Soo goes off to work as general of the police force under the tutelage of the Old Mister. After a long day’s work, they like to pester the old man in his butcher shop until his cleavers are out and aiming for their heads. They, too, attend the king’s personal court and are held in reverence amongst the ranks. It doesn’t take long for a young noblewoman to fall in love with one of them. Another thinks he’s incapable of being desired, but soon takes his words back when a beautiful courtmaid hands him a flower rice cake one snowy evening.

Shortly after, the king himself begins to realize that he’s fallen for a guard of the trio as well- the only one without a lady love. At first, he can’t keep his eyes off the man who keeps him safe- who works in unison with his adoptive brothers to keep the promise that was made to his late father. At first the king thinks that it’s a phase that will pass. The Queen assures him that soon enough, the feelings will become irrelevant and he’ll be able to move on. But then it comes to him that he can’t, and the fact that the guard will stand to protect him until the day he dies manages to make something burst into flames in his heart. He works to make his own fate and trains harder than ever to become as strong and skilled as his guards and Baek Dong Soo. His country isn’t the only thing he wants to protect now- he has a guard he wishes to keep by his side forever.

Cho Rip decides he can’t stop his beloved from her impulses, and funds her education in martial arts. At first, Mi So is ecstatic, but then she begins to doubt herself because the shadow of her general father hangs over like a cloak over a flame. She feels as if she’s suffocating, but then he assures her that the feeling will pass. It always does. In the end, all that matters is that the ones that need to be protected are protected till the very end. They have their first kiss after Mi So manages to throw ten darts in perfect unison with each other, the blades hitting the red dot on the wood with sharp thuds.

It takes a year and many stances of pestering, pushing, coaxing, and guilt tripping- courtesy of Sa Mo, Cho Rip, Mi So, the trio, the trio’s lady loves, the king, Jin Gi, and an assortment of others. But it finally happens. The wedding between Baek Dong Soo and Ji Sun takes place in the palace. The notion, at first, angers the older noblemen, but when the Queen speaks, all others cower fearfully under her wrath. Baek Dong Soo asks her the day before- asks why she would want to help him. She doesn’t answer, but Baek Dong Soo thinks it might have to do with a certain shadow of a man.

The two, Baek Dong Soo and Ji Sun, don’t know if their love is the love the others perceive it to be. But the perform their duties of husband and wife, even though it takes eight months for them to become intimate with each other. They love each other enough, it’s understood- even though their hearts belong to the same flitting shadow that neither will ever be able to attain. Sometimes, Baek Dong Soo swears he’s right behind him. Sometimes, Ji Sun swears he’s right in front of her. They’re both usually wrong.

Two years after their wedding, Mi So and Cho Rip hold their own wedding atop a hill overlooking a string of mountains. They then leave for seven months on a mission to Japan, appointed by their king. They’re happy to leave, but sad that it will be for so long. But Mi So assures her darling aunt it will pass shortly. And when they return, they’ll be a happy family again.

When they do return, the courtmaid and her guard marry under the king’s wreath. That same month, Heuk Sa Mo suffers a heart attack that leaves him paralyzed under his waist. His arms are still usable, so when the trio come in to annoy him, he still has his cleavers ready for their heads. Within two short months, the aging man finally closes his eyes once and for all, and Baek Dong Soo, the trio, and the rest don’t rid themselves of their mourning cloth for weeks afterwards. It’s when Ji Sun announces that she’s pregnant that the family begins to shed tears of joy rather than pain, and finally begins to move on.

It’s in Ji Sun’s third and final term that the noblewoman and the second guard decide to wed. But there’s opposition this time. Unlike Cho Rip’s apathetic father and the courtmaid’s enthusiastic mother, the noble girl’s father doesn’t have any intention to marry his third daughter off to a man of common blood. An orphan, a child of no past. He tells the guard that if he takes his daughter, he will shun her for the rest of his days, and no one will dare oppose him because of it. She will become as alone as he was before he met the trio, he understands. He leaves her without explaining days later. She marries the Qing suitor her father originally had in mind. He smiles as he sends her off from a distance, her sisters and two of her brothers accompanying her to her new home. At night, he drinks so much that he can’t tell head from tail.

Ji Sun gives birth one rainy afternoon. It’s a baby boy, and the name is Yoo Jin. He smiles at his wife and embraces her as the child sleeps between them.

Mi So can’t bear children in the end. After trying for so long, they both know it’s of no use. But that doesn’t stop them from picking a child off the street and claiming them as their own. They find the small thing in a bed of hay outside a giaseng house. At first, they ask if the mother is inside. When pushed away, they realize that miracles do exist and they take him home.

Two years later, Baek Dong Soo, Ji Sun, and the trio all turn thirty-one. They can’t believe they’ve made it thus far, and decide to have a little get together with everyone to celebrate the occasion. The guest of honor is the guard’s pregnant wife. They end up skipping straight to the baby name game.

The king, now twenty five and of marriageable age, begins to search for his true queen. The aging woman standing as de facto queen gives in and begins to search for a wealthy, prestigious noblewoman. But she knows that his heart belongs to the guard who is still without a love, so she looks for a woman with half a brain and a half a care. She knows what happens when heartbroken kings rule. Though she can care less for him, she still cares greatly for her country- and the King is bringing the country back to its former glory. She swears to find a way to find a queen and quell the court’s whispers, and simultaneously find a way to soothe the waves of emotions echoing throughout the king’s heart. At times, she finds herself loathing the guard who the King can’t keep his eyes off of. She wonders why no one ever gave her that look, and begrudges the guard for being so blind.

Years go by. Ji Sun and Baek Dong Soo manage to have three more children. Mi So and Cho Rip end up picking up two more. The guard and his courtmaid have two, and by then, Mi So’s aunt can’t babysit them all at the same anymore without trying to rip her hair out. It doesn’t help that the new Queen is also with child. There’s a collective string of laughs.

In those years, Jin Gi falls ill. He says it’s only ghost pain, but everyone knows it’s because Sa Mo, his last friend, is gone and that he officially has no one left. The family tell him he will always be their uncle, and that they’ll take care of him till the very end. The trio swear they’re going to pester him three-fold the way they pestered the butcher.

Then, after a night of sitting and playing go, Baek Dong Soo takes his sons home after waving bye to the old man. When he returns the next morning with one of the trio, they find the small cottage empty. They search the surrounding forest and places the elderly amble about. They check the cliffs, thinking he may have ended himself from the proposed loneliness, but find nothing. When Mi So and Cho Rip hear about it, they send out a search party. When the trio’s shift ends with the king, they too spend hours at night for months, searching for the man. They never find him.

Afterwards, the heartbroken guard meets his noblewoman again. They’ve both aged considerably. Her father’s recently passed on, and her husband’s sent her back for the favor of a different woman. A Qing princess, he hears, but he dares not ask. She has one daughter. The girl ends up calling him Father one evening, and the next day, the guard and his noblewoman marry underneath the stars.

Baek Dong Soo finds out the king’s affections for the bachelor guard the same night. It’s only them two drinking the flower wine, but neither are drunk. Baek Dong Soo asks why now. The king tells him it’s because he has a queen and twins- a boy and a girl. The royal standards have been met- he has an heir and a spare, as others liked to call it. The kingdom prospers. Trade is efficient, the Qing and Japanese have sent him concubines as gifts. The golden age is set in place, and everything is perfect in the eyes of the people. They love me, the King tells Baek Dong Soo.

And therefore, he says he has nothing left to lose. Baek Dong Soo tells him that sometimes it’s better to let go and let be than anything else. The King asks him why he thinks so. Baek Dong Soo beats around the bush until the king falls asleep. Then, he cries silently as the shadowy essence of a certain man begins to permeate throughout his memories.

In the years that follow, up to his death, Baek Dong Soo sees the Earth and Sky Lords only twice. They nod, acknowledge each other’s presence, and move on yet never speak once. The king never tells the guard that he loves him, and spends the rest of his remaining days admiring and loving the man who eventually marries a cousin of Hong Do’s. But he does manage to kiss him once when he’s ill, promising the guard that taking care of him for one night was the least he could do. Ji Sun and Jin Ju meet one more time. The two women hug before parting forever. Cho Rip names his third son Yeo Woon. Sometimes, he sincerely hopes that the original Yeo Woon will accept it as the apology he never gave him. The rest continues as it has to.

As Baek Dong Soo dies in his sleep at the age of seventy-three, a slight tingling in his belly return. He smiles when he feels warm hands pull him into the Underworld, ready to keep a promise they made decades before.

*******

The Earth and Sky Lords official ceremony takes place two months after Joseon gets its new king. It takes a that much time for the assassins to band together as one and finally accept that they had a new team of lords. Unknown to the pair, most were elated to see that they had come together, despite breaking on the loyalty par before. They swear the two remind them of a reverse gender pair of their former Sky and Earth Lords. But of course, that only remains gossip.

At first, it takes time for the new Earth Lord to get used to to the castle. It suddenly becomes a collective effort from everyone to help get her situated. At first, she’s flustered and insists she’s fine, but when the brown garbed young assassin offers to show her around, she caves in and takes his arm. They develop a good friendship later in the years.

The first year of their partnership, they decide to make it known to the other three guilds that Heuksa Chorong is back to its former glory. To do that, they single highhandedly destroy all the Qing occupiers hoping to usurp the assassins in their part of the land. The feat even surprises the Queen and King of Joseon, who commend and send lavish gifts as a result. But it isn’t a hired hit, and suddenly, the southern guild sends its envoys and its Moon Lady over for chats and negotiations regarding the future of their relationship.

The week Ji Sun and Baek Dong Soo are to be married is the same week the eastern guild leader, the Painted Flower Queen, invites the Earth Lady and her Sky Lord to join a festival being held in Yeongyang. She doesn’t get to see them become husband and wife, but she does sneak a look at Baek Dong Soo in his ceremonial wedding robes. She leaves with her heart crushed. Her Sky Lord is more broken, however. He doesn’t speak once throughout their journey to the western city, and when he cries silently at night, she holds him close and cries with him.

They share their first kiss a few months later, after they return from Yeongyang. It’s an out-of-the-blue kind of moment, and the only two people to witness the happening are two children who belong to one of the assassins. It’s not their fault their attempting to clean each other up after a rough day’s training. And it’s definitely not her fault she nick her chin and he offers to clean up the wound. And it’s definitely not both their faults that loneliness creeps into their hearts as they remember that their one and only now belongs to the samini, and on pained impulse, let their lips meet in a chaste embrace.

They promise never do it again, but that doesn’t mean they don’t cherish the short moment of warmth from one another.

A few years later, an issue arises from the unlikeliest of places. A young female assassin envoy from the north comes down to Heuksa Chorong for a few months, as they send the brown garbed youth over as the exchange. The little play match is meant to strengthen the North and West’s relationship, as it’s almost impossible for the Sky and Earth Lords to personally visit the Mountain Lord and his Valley Queen in Pyongyang and vice versa. So they settle by sending over one of their elites for a few months. The young woman instantly creates a ripple within the seams of the guild. The woman of the North comes dressed in the flimsiest cloth Gu Hyang has ever witnessed, and for a few days, the Lords and their attendants swear this is a joke. But when a hit is carried out for the new King, the woman alone slaughters an entire shipment of defectors in one go with nothing but a double ended scythe and two Japanese kunai. When Cho Rip’s wedding comes along, the Lords take the young woman and a few assassins as their aid as they sneak around the back edges of the hills to watch the ceremony. Yeo Woon begins to silently cry as they watch his childhood friend give up loneliness and embrace happiness. The young envoy ends up pulling them both into a crushing hug. They don’t speak and watch from the shadows until the bridal palanquin and party recede down the hill and out of their sight.

When she readies to leave, Jin Ju personally apologizes for underestimating her, and the woman replies by placing a swift kiss on her cheek before ambling away on her horse.

News of Sa Mo’s death is hard on both of them. On the day of the funeral, they’re no where to be found by the assassins. When some of the younger ones begin to worry, Gu Hyang assures them that they still have some humanity left in them, and that this is one of those moments when they have to show it. When they return, they dress themselves in mourning clothes and disallow the carrying out of any hits for an entire month as respect for the dead.

Nine months later, Ji Sun gives birth. Jin Ju doesn’t know who cries silently more- her, or her Sky Lord.

It’s Yeo Woon who first finds out that Mi So is sterile and plans the little “finding out.” He finds the child in the mountains during one of his rides out with some of the trainees. The parents are shepherds who can barely afford to feed themselves. Yeo Woon sends one of his masked underlings with ten bags of gold and unwoven fabric to the little hut, all in exchange for the child. They willingly give the babe up. Yeo Woon gets off his horse and has two of the youngest trainees, a twelve year old girl and a thirteen year old boy, get on the horse and ride while he walks, carrying the baby back all the way. He plants the child in the bed of hay a few weeks later, and schemes for Mi So to find the little thing.

When she does, he wishes her and Cho Rip the best, silently whispering an apology for not getting them a wedding gift earlier.

When Jin Ju’s father falls ill, she becomes panicked. She begins to leave the pagoda for long periods throughout the day, stalking the small cottage where her father is cared for by the ajumma and the others. She manages to get seen by one of Dong Soo’s children once, but the little boy is still too young to realize who she is, so she simply pats his head and goes back to her hiding spot in the trees. When it becomes unbearable for her, she ends up kidnapping the man in his sleep and bringing him back to the castle without Yeo Woon’s permission.

But the man doesn’t begrduge her, and they both work together to nurse the man back to health. Soon enough, he becomes able enough to move around again, and Jin Ju remembers the days he used to sit by her side as she sweated out fevers. When he’s more than able, she sucks in her emotions, and tells him she’s ready to send him back whenever he’s ready. He tells her he has no intention of leaving, and suddenly, Jin Ju feels as if her makeshift family is finally complete. The night she tucks her father into sleep is the night she and Yeo Woon share another accidental kiss. This time, they’re caught by a nine year old medic-assassin in training, and he openly berates them for being fickle. Jin Ju smacks him upside the head and tells him to go to bed. Yeo Woon chuckles and takes the boy to bed before Jin Ju gets any redder.

Later, Yeo Woon is astonished when he hears from Jin Ju that the King has feelings for one his guard. In fact, it’s such a shocker that Yeo Woon trips over the ledge of a boat they’re using to get across a river, and falls into the river. Jin Ju laughs, but Yeo Woon is still flabbergasted as the water rushes into his mouth. She ends up jumping in after him to fish him out. When they’re both drenched and visibly shivering, he asks her where she learned the news. She admits that the Queen herself told her. In fact, she hired Heuksa Chorong to rid Joseon of some of the petty nobles who were hoping to kill their most undesirable daughters and replace them with fake substitutes as to get a chance to plant a bug into the palace should the King marry one of them. Yeo Woon laughs, thinking this is the nicest thing the Queen has ever done for the young King. After the initial chuckles, they both have a silent prayer for the man who’d kept out of their way thus far. Afterwards, Jin Ju asks if the young man will move on from it, and Yeo Woon tells her that he’s probably been inflicted with their curse and that no, he won’t. It’s a pity, she says. Almost as pitiful as them, he agrees.

Then the cries for an heir begin to echo through out the halls of the aged pagoda. Though it is known that the two lords don’t have a sexual relationship with one another, they’re suddenly being pegged into the idea of procreating with one another. Ju Jin and Jin Ju’s father continually assure her that an heir is needed, otherwise another instance like this will occur and the guild will once again be divided. At first, it seems like the right thing to do, and the two attempt to spend one night together to end the jabbering once and for all and, hopefully, prevent another pseudo-war. But the action fails when Jin Ju realizes _he_  isn’t Baek Dong Soo, and Yeo Woon realizes that _she_  isn’t Baek Dong Soo. They end up spending the night in their night clothes, talking about their childhood and how the swordsman of Joseon managed to steal their hearts twenty years ago, when they still played with sticks and liked sweets in their mouth.

It doesn’t take the Lords to eventually admit their inability to reproduce, with Jin Ju being claimed as infertile, and so then there’s a bid to choose one from the youngsters already initiated into the guild. But there’s a collective “no” from the two lords, and they swear they’ll find a suitable child on their own. That child ends up coming from a giaseng house, and they both swear to raise her as the rightful lord.

Once during the following years, when Yeo Woon and Jin Ju have finished hunting deer for their daughter’s birthday feast, they lock eyes with Baek Dong Soo. His seven year old son is latched on to his hand, and sucking candied fruits. She nods and smiles faintly at the man who looked as if he hadn’t aged a day. Yeo Woon looks on blankly. They move on without speaking.

The next time Yeo Woon sees him is in the market square. A heavily pregnant Ji Sun stands beside him, looking at the trinkets, unknowing that he stood less than five yards from her. This time, Yeo Woon smiles before leaving Baek Dong Soos’s sight.

Jin Ju sees Baek Dong Soo during a festival. She’s buying a pendant for her daughter when she sees him ambling about with three children at his side. They only glance at each other for a second before she moves out of their way.

Jin Ju says hello to Ji Sun when her oldest son joins the warrior camp in the mountains, led by the still strong Old Mister. They chat about menial things. They embrace once, and Jin Ju tells her she’s sorry she never protected her the way Dong Soo wanted her to. Ji Sun tells her it’s OK and that’s the last they ever see of each other.

She dies before she can see her daughter grow into womanhood. The seemingly quaint life they’d been leading thus far comes to a morbid end as reality comes crashing down on them. It’s on a bright, March morning when it happens. It’s a routine raid on a growing defector colony, a job requested by a nobleman from court. Everything goes as planned until a boy, a child no more than thirteen or fourteen, shoves his makeshift blade through her stomach as she works to finish off the last of the defectors. When she turns around, eyes aghast, she locks gazes with the frightened being as they both attempt to decipher what just happened. It’s the brown garbed youth who finally yanks the boy by the collar and shoves him aside. When he tries to kill him, she raises her hand feebly for him to stop. He does, but by the time he reaches her, she’s already gone.

Yeo Woon isn’t there that day to see her pass on. Consequently, he decided earlier to visit his father’s grave that morning, instead of leading the raid. When he returns to the castle, he’s met with a dead body already wrapped in a shroud, and a wailing twelve year old girl, crying for her mother. When he lifts the veil, he freezes. A lone tear escapes his eye and falls elegantly upon a her lips. He covers her face and carries the sobbing girl away before returning for the burial.

Her mother’s marbles and her father’s broadsword are both put back on the racks. Then a new rack is added- but this one holds her bow and a quiver full of arrows.

Jin Gi has a hard time living afterwards. But as a tribute to his daughter’s memory, he continues to aid in the upbringing of the girl. Yeo Woon begins to pay even closer attention to her education and begins to demand more out of the guild. At first, fear rose in Jin Gi, Ju Jin, and the brown garbed assassin’s hearts- but it all subsided. ]They’ve never truly seen this side, except Ju Jin, who’d first met the child when former Lord Cheon dragged him in. And Gu Hyang, who’d witnessed the hatred flash before his eyes when he was forced to beat Baek Dong Soo in front of the former Defense Minister’s mansion.

The girl continues to grow, and Yeo Woon takes up drinking more than he should. Almost as bad as their former lord, a few surmise. Worse than their former lord, Ju Jin corrects.

When Jin Ju’s father passes on, no one but Yeo Woon and Ju Jin shed tears. The future Earth Lord of Heuksa Chorong buries her grandfather next to her mother, by the cherry blossom trees, with an expression as firm and unwavering as that of the Earth Lord Ga Ok.

His daughter becomes the new Earth Lord when she’s twenty-six. She marries the youngest son of a family dedicated to the killing arts, who’s matriarch was once a celebrated female assassin herself. She gives birth to a son a year later, as to get the fundamentals out of the way. She returns to work and leaves the child to the father, who’s only a lad of eighteen. When the young man protests, she silently brandishes her sword and cuts him on the cheek, as to remind him where he is and who he’s to serve. Yeo Woon sits silently and finishes his cup of sake as the boy submits and his daughter leaves in a flurry of billowing robes without a sound or a word uttered. When the lad starts crying with the child, he rises and puts a hand on his shoulder before helping the two up and taking them back to their quarters.

She’s as immovable as her father. Gu Hyang and the rest are proud to call her their Lady.

He doesn’t stop drinking, all throughout the ordeals. Sometimes, his daughter throws his sake tumbler across the throne room without a word. When he doesn’t react, she leaves the throne room for days on end, taking assignment after assignment, nonstop. The son-in-law continually begs for him to let go of the wretched liquid, and even attempts to hide the bottles at times. His grandson totters on his new legs and sometimes tries to drink out of the cup out of curiosity, only to be rejected when Yeo Woon finishes it off quickly. His hair lengthens, and he only trims it to keep its shape. He cleans his face and adjusts the shape of his eyebrows, but the grooming techniques never help because his eyes are just too hollow to ignore.

Ju Jin dies a little bit later. Yeo Woon and his daughter bury him next to Jin Gi. Gu Hyang follows shortly after, but she dies during battle. She gets buried next to the other elites that came before her.

The daughter manages to make new friends and better connections. Heuksa Chorong thrives in the days she rules by his side. He’s proud, but he doesn’t say anything. She still tosses his sake tumblers across the throne room everyday.

Yeo Woon dies on his grandson’s sixth birthday. That night, when he knows his time is coming, he silently teeters his way over to the old hovel where he once used to live. At first, he assumed it was just the brown garbed assassin who was aiding him, but then realizes that his daughter is also following close behind. They help him reach the abandoned area, and set a place for them so they can comfortably watch the stars together one last time. He dies in his sleep, his head on the Earth Lord’s soft shoulder. His daughter destroys his sake tumbler afterwards, pinning the blame on it for killing her father when she knows full well that it was loneliness instead.

When he wakes up again, he’s somewhere beautiful. Somewhere honest. Jin Ju is with him again, and they spend a lot of time talking and eating and drinking and remembering. Then he feels another soul beginning to enter his heaven, and when he reaches his hands out to grasp it, he realizes that it could only be him.

When Baek Dong Soo is in his arms at last, he cries- this time, it’s because he’s finally happy.

*******

**The End**


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